


That Fateful Night

by jupiter23



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, RMS Titanic, Titanic AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-05-23 17:35:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 57,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6124679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiter23/pseuds/jupiter23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>April, 1912. The Royal Mail Steamer Titanic, largest and most luxurious ocean liner of her day and the crown jewel of the White Star line, is being prepared for her first voyage across the Atlantic in Southampton, England. For Marianne, Dawn, and Sunny, it means transportation home after a two-month long tour of Europe. For Bog and his workers Stuff, Thang, and Brutus, it is yet another mode of transportation taking them home from yet another business trip. When Bog and Marianne, both of whom have sworn off of love and romance, inevitably meet on board the luxury liner, it becomes a force of nature in and of itself. What will happen when a separate force of nature acts on the ship? More importantly, what will survive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

April 10, 1912.

 _The_ RMS Titanic _, under the command of Captain Edward Smith, is docked at Southampton, England. For the time period, she was the largest ocean liner of her day, outclassing her sister ship_ Olympic _by a few feet and a few metric tons of weight and displacement. The newspapers of the day are not making that big of a deal about her, except to point out all of her features and to mention some of the most famous members of society who would be sailing on her at the time, people who were collectively worth $250 million USD at the time. Oh yeah, and to help perpetuate the stories that she was “practically unsinkable.” Many of_ Titanic’s _passengers and even some of her crew would staunchly believe in this particular story right up to the point where they inevitably couldn’t._

Titanic _departs Southampton at approximately noon. On her way out of the harbor, her water displacement disturbs two other ships also docked at Southampton, Titanic’s sister ship_ Olympic _and the_ SS New York _._ Olympic _withstood the force of the water fine. The_ New York _, however, did not._ New York _was torn from her moorings and came within four feet of hitting_ Titanic _._ Titanic _was forced to stop while crew members and workers got both ships back under control, resulting in an hour long delay for_ Titanic _. Some passengers felt that the near-collision was a bad omen._

Titanic _makes one stop in Cherborg, France approximately 7 PM that evening to pick up and drop off passengers. She leaves Cherborg at approximately 9 PM for Queenstown, Ireland for one more passenger pick-up/drop-off the next day._

Marianne Springwood turned from the baggage handlers she had just finished giving instructions to to find her sister, Dawn, and their valet/traveling companion Sunny Elfman, gawking at the ocean liner in the harbor before them. Yes, the _Titanic_ was a new ship, and yes, Marianne had even been impressed when their cab had first pulled up to the dock, but still. It was just a ship. She wondered if the newspapers weren’t making it out to be more than it was. (She certainly didn’t believe the stories that it was unsinkable. Marianne was a firm believer that there was no such thing as a ship that couldn’t sink.) She had to admit, though, it was a beautiful ship on the outside. And she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious to see what it looked like on the inside.

Marianne glanced from her sister and Sunny back to the ship. There were crewmen running around the decks, loading cargo and doing whatever it was that a ship’s crew had to do to prepare a ship for sailing. Some of said crew were currently having an automobile lowered into the cargo hold. Marianne couldn’t help rolling her eyes at this. No doubt a purchase made by one of her fellow first-class passengers. People were also moving up the gangplanks, already boarding the ship. Speaking of, Marianne thought they should get moving. The ship was scheduled to leave at noon, and if she knew Dawn, actually getting her to stop staring and actually get on the ship could take the better part of the forty-five minutes they had until then.

It wasn’t that Marianne was eager to leave, though. Dawn was actually more excited for this voyage than she was. While they had just spent two months touring Europe, and Dawn had been enthusiastic about that, Marianne could tell that she couldn’t wait to get home. And then traveling on the maiden voyage of one of the largest and most luxurious ships ever built only topped it off. Dawn would be telling their father and her friends about it for months to come.

 However, this entire trip had been more for Marianne’s sake than Dawn’s. A little over a year ago, she had caught her now ex-fiancé Roland Knight very literally in the act of having an affair with one of her family’s maids two days before their wedding. Marianne had been devastated and had immediately called off the wedding. And since one should expect some sort of punishment for being caught having sex in their employer’s daughter’s bed, Dagda immediately had the maid dismissed.

Roland, however, didn’t think he had done anything wrong and thought Marianne had been overreacting. He had been chasing after her to take him back ever since, though his efforts were somewhat hampered by the fact that Dagda wouldn’t allow him back onto their property, which meant he could only approach her while she was in public. Marianne had been able to handle it, but then the rumors started. The only knowledge anyone outside of her family really had was that she had ended the engagement.  A lot of people thought that whatever her excuse was for calling off the wedding wasn’t good enough and she should marry Roland anyway. Marianne had finally gotten sick of listening to the gossip a few months ago, and that was when she had decided that perhaps an overseas trip might be in order.

When Marianne had first approached her father about going, she had been set on going by herself. Dagda, while understanding why Marianne wanted to leave the country for a while, had adamantly refused to allow her to travel alone. Marianne had compromised by suggesting that Dawn could go with her, and Dagda had then told her that she had to bring Sunny as well, citing that it wasn’t safe for two women to travel alone without a man. Even Sunny had scoffed at this; all three of them knew that Marianne and Dawn could take care of themselves. But Marianne had decided against arguing the point and agreed, and that was how all three of them wound up on this trip.

It had been so nice to be somewhere where she wasn’t constantly overhearing gossip about herself and Roland. Dawn and Sunny, bless them both, had been careful to not bring him up at any point, either. Now it was time to go home. Dagda had arranged for them to return to New York on the _Titanic_ and had even bought a second-class ticket for Sunny. Now here they were on the dock in Southampton, and even now Marianne was giving thought to just sending Dawn and Sunny ahead to New York without her. She had enjoyed her trip and had wanted to see her father again, but she knew as soon as Roland heard she was back in America, he would be after her again. The day before they had left New York for Rome, Dawn had gotten wind of a rumor that Roland had suddenly returned to Texas. No reason had been attached to it, which Marianne had found curious. It wouldn’t matter, though. Word could travel fast nowadays, and she had the feeling nothing would stop Roland from resuming his pursuit of her.

Ultimately, Marianne knew it wouldn’t solve anything to avoid going home. Besides, as excited as Dawn was to be going home, she wouldn’t leave if Marianne wouldn’t leave. And if Dawn wouldn’t go, Sunny wouldn’t go, either.

With that settled, all that was left to do was to get Dawn and Sunny to pick their jaws up off the ground and get them on board. Marianne looked over at the two of them still gaping at the ship and reached over to Sunny, who was standing the closest to her, put two fingers under his jaw, and physically closed his mouth.

The action snapped him back to reality and his head shook with the shock. Then he offered Marianne a sheepish grin. Marianne responded to it with an arched eyebrow and glanced between him and Dawn.

“Now you two did want to leave _today_ , right?” she asked them both.

“Yeah!” Sunny yelped, and then he cleared his throat. “I mean, yes. Yes, we do.” Dawn only nodded absently, clearly not having heard either one of them. It took Marianne stepping in front of her and waving a hand in front of her face to finally get her to remember where she was.

“Come on, Dawn, you can stare as much as you like once we’re on board,” Marianne said somewhat impatiently.

“It’s so _huge_!” Dawn squealed, seemingly having recovered her voice. “I can’t wait to tell Daddy all about it!”

Marianne and Sunny started trying to usher Dawn towards their gangplank. “You won’t have the chance to tell him much of anything if you don’t come on,” Marianne said.

“Oh Marianne, stop making such a big deal out of everything! We have plenty of time to look,” Dawn argued.

“If you consider ten minutes plenty of time, then yes, we do,” Marianne retorted, keeping her expression neutral.

Dawn stared back over at Marianne. “Are you _serious_? Just _ten minutes_?” she nearly shrieked. Then she swung around and would have bolted for the gangplank had Marianne and Sunny not grabbed each of her arms.

“Walk, Dawn,” Marianne reminded her. And Dawn complied, although she did speed walk ahead of Marianne and Sunny to the gangplank.

“Why did you tell her that?” Sunny hissed to Marianne. “We still have forty-five minutes, not ten!”

“Did you want to spend the next forty-five minutes standing around on this dock?” Marianne hissed back. “Besides, it’s working isn’t it?” The both of them had made sure to keep their eyes on Dawn the whole way across the dock, and now she was halfway up the gangplank. They still hadn’t quite reached it.

Sunny opened his mouth to retort, but when it registered that Dawn was nearly on the ship already, he closed it again and instead gave one of the soft smiles Marianne had long ago noticed he only used for Dawn and anything she said or did. Marianne’s own lips quirked up in a smile. Just because she had sworn off of love herself didn’t mean she was blind to it in other people. She and Dawn basically grew up with Sunny when his parents came to work for their father, and Dawn and Sunny were nearly inseparable. And Sunny had been in love with Dawn for pretty much as long as they had known each other. Marianne knew there were really only two reasons the two of them weren’t married to each other by now. The first was that Dawn never seemed to notice how Sunny felt about her and spent a fair amount of her time mooning over other men. Marianne suspected that the second reason was because Sunny was black, and society heavily frowned on interracial relationships.

“Okay, yeah, but what do you think she’s going to do when she gets up there and realizes that she doesn’t have her boarding pass?” Sunny pointed out.

They didn’t have long to wait for Dawn’s reaction. They were at the gangplank by now, and Dawn had started frantically digging around in her handbag for her boarding pass. Marianne stifled a giggle and pulled all three passes from her own handbag as she and Sunny ascended to the hatch.  By the time they had reached the doorway leading into the ship, Dawn had turned to Marianne, on the verge of a panic attack until she saw the passes in Marianne’s hand. Then her panic turned to annoyance.

“Let this be a lesson in patience,” Marianne chided as she handed their passes to the waiting crewman. Before Dawn could launch into a series of complaints, the crewman welcomed them aboard and pointed them in the direction of their stateroom. Marianne only breezed past her and stepped onto the ship with a smug smile on her face.

 

“I’m just telling you what I heard, and all the papers say the same thing! The ship is unsinkable!” Thang insisted.

“And I’m telling you that they’re all saying ‘practically’ unsinkable! There’s no such thing as a ship that can’t sink!” Stuff argued.

Broderic “Bog” King drew in a deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut, pinched the bridge of his nose, and counted to ten before he slowly released his breath. His employees, Estella “Stuff” Holland and Theodore “Thang” Norwood, had Not Stopped Arguing about the stories surrounding the _Titanic_ since they had boarded.  It was all he could do to swallow down the urge to turn around and yell at them to get out of his stateroom and come back when they were done.  His third employee, Brutus Tarven, was also doing his best to ignore the two of them while he helped Bog unpack and settle in for the trip home. Which is what Stuff and Thang were also supposed to be doing, but they seemed to be favoring their argument more the longer it went on.

“You sure you don’t want to just lock them in a closet somewhere, sir?” Brutus asked him quietly as the two of them sorted through a briefcase full of file folders and schematics. “It’s a really big ship, I’m sure you could find one far enough away from here.”

Bog snorted in amusement. “Believe me, I’m tempted to,” he answered. And it was a sorely tempting thought. The ship was big alright, and certainly the most spacious one he had ever sailed on. Bog had done a lot of traveling in the last ten or so years, and after a while most ships started to look the same. Not _Titanic_ , though. Bog had to give the White Star Line credit; even he was impressed. He didn’t believe the stories, though. Nothing was infallible, not even ships. Bog wouldn’t be surprised to hear it if the only reason the White Star Line let the stories flourish was to sell passage. He was a company owner himself, he knew all about marketing a product.

“By the way, sir, what should I order for you from the galley later?” Brutus asked, cutting off Bog’s thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, I think I’ll actually go to the dining hall tonight,” Bog said.

Brutus froze in what he was doing and stared at Bog. Then it went curiously silent in the room. It seemed he had also found what it took to shut Stuff and Thang up, because they were staring at him too.

Bog looked up from his files and stared back at them. “What?” he asked all of them.

“Sir….you… _never_ leave your cabin for dinner,” Thang said, his eyes widening in surprise behind his glasses.

“Your point?” Bog challenged him.

“Well—I—it’s just—“ Thang stammered, scrambling to come up with a reason.

“Look, I can leave my room to eat if I bloody well want to,” Bog argued. Then he turned back to his files while the three of them still stood there gaping at him. “Feel free to join me if you like. Unless you all intend to stand there the rest of the day?”

This snapped them out of their shock. Brutus returned to helping Bog sort the files and Stuff and Thang returned to unpacking the rest of Bog’s luggage.

Or at least they spent the next few minutes unpacking. Then Stuff happened to walk by a clock.

“Oooh, it’s five minutes to noon!” she announced, dropping the armload of clothing she was holding back into its trunk.  

“You’re right, we have to get up to the deck!” Thang agreed.

“Get to the deck for what?” Bog asked, turning back to them as they were heading for the door.

Stuff gave an unladylike snort of exasperation. “Because we’re leaving port?” she explained.

“Yeah! We have to go and wave goodbye!” Thang said. He and Stuff were nearly in the hallway.

“Wave goodbye to who? You don’t know anyone down there,” Brutus retorted.

“Does that matter? It’s the ship’s first time leaving port, we should be up there!” Stuff said.

It was Bog’s turn to snort in exasperation. “Fine! Go if it means that much to you,” he told them. Stuff and Thang were down the hallway before he could change his mind.

 When Bog turned back around, Brutus was giving him another confounded look. “Would you rather I called them back so we could listen to their arguing some more?” he asked in response to Brutus’s unspoken question.

Brutus closed his mouth and shook his head. “That’s perfectly alright, sir.” But rather than turn back to the files, he glanced back towards the still-open door. Bog took that as a hint and he smiled in bemusement. 

“Feel free to go yourself if you like,” he said.

Brutus grinned. “Thank you, sir!” he said, putting down a stack of files and hurrying after his colleagues and forgetting to shut the door in his excitement. It never ceased to amaze Bog that Brutus could move so fast for someone with so much bulky muscle. As he crossed the room to shut the door, he guessed he would get about half an hour of peace and quiet before they came back.

 

“Oh my God, Marianne, I still can’t believe you missed it!” Dawn gushed as she handed her menu back to the steward. Marianne, Dawn, and Sunny were all seated at a table in the first class dining hall and had just ordered dinner. Earlier that afternoon as _Titanic_ was leaving Southampton, Dawn had dragged Sunny with her out to the promenade to wave at the people on the dock as _Titanic_ left port. Marianne was still unpacking in their stateroom and had decided not to go with them. She had pointed out to Dawn that there was really no point, they didn’t know anyone down there. But Dawn had been insistent and gone anyway.

But then it seemed that she had missed some commotion. According to Dawn, who had been talking about it for the last few hours now, _Titanic_ had torn another ship out of her moorings as they were being towed out and the two ships had nearly hit each other. The ship had been delayed in leaving port as a result. Marianne hadn’t even really noticed the delay. When Dawn and Sunny hadn’t come back right away, she figured Dawn had gotten a head start touring the ship. But then they did come back, and while Sunny went down to his own cabin to settle in, Dawn told her all about what happened. She and Sunny had stayed on deck watching the entire time.

From what Marianne had been hearing around them on their way down to the dining hall, it seemed like everyone was talking about it. She heard more than a few people comment that it was a bad omen, yet Marianne had noticed that none of them seemed to be in any hurry to get off the ship. They were now docked at Cherborg, France, and while more passengers were getting on board, Marianne, Dawn, and Sunny decided to go to the dining hall to have dinner.

They had just placed their orders, and now Dawn had launched into the story for the third time, and now Marianne was only half-listening with her head resting in one hand while she took in her surroundings. The dining hall was nice, if a bit on the lavish side. At least Marianne thought so. Then she found herself watching the people coming in. She recognized some of them, and others she could take a pretty good guess at. They were some of the richest and most prominent people in the world. Marianne supposed that anyone else would have been excited about seeing some of them. After a minute, though, they all started to look the same to her.

“…and some people are even saying it’s a bad omen,” Dawn was saying, cutting into Marianne’s reverie.

Marianne glanced back at Dawn and rolled her eyes. “You know good and well some people will find anything they can to be superstitious over,” she said.

“But what if they’re on to something, though? I mean…” and then the rest of Dawn’s response was lost to Marianne as she returned to her people-watching. Her eyes traced around the room, watching some people being seated, until they returned to the doorway in time to see a new group of people walk in.

And then she couldn’t look away. They were in a group like most of the other arrivals, three men and a woman. The woman was rather short and slightly on the stocky side, and very obviously not interested in the high fashion of most of the other first-class passengers. The first of the men was nearly the same height as the woman, wearing glasses and also plainly dressed. The second man was much taller and obviously well-muscled, and looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

It was the third man who had caught her full attention. A bit taller than the other man, leanly built, sharp features, hair as dark as the night sky, and dressed a degree more nicely than the rest of his group. Marianne was starting to wonder if it was in fact possible for someone to have cheekbones so sharp they could cut glass with them when the man had started to take his own look around the room and happened to lock eyes with her and _holy mother of God his eyes_.

If his hair matched the night sky, then his eyes put the day sky to shame. Never in her life had she seen eyes so blue, and she didn’t think she ever would again.

Marianne blinked as she and the blue eyed man watched one another for a few seconds, and then he suddenly tore his gaze away from hers. She could have sworn those sharp cheeks were turning red.

She kept watching him as he and the other three with him were led across the room to a table. There was something almost…lonely, was about the only word she had for it…about his demeanor.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of their food. When she turned back to the table, though, she nearly jumped a foot to find Dawn and Sunny watching her. Sunny at least had the decency to keep his expression neutral, if it was a touch amused. Marianne was relieved by this, because Dawn was shooting her a sly grin.

“I saw that,” Dawn sang.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Marianne said defensively, turning to her plate. She would never admit that she could feel her face burning.

“I can’t wait to tell daddy that you finally noticed a man again!” Dawn squealed.

“I haven’t ‘ _noticed_ ’ anyone!” Marianne snapped.

“I’m gonna go over there and say hi!” Dawn said, rising out of her chair.

Fortunately Marianne was able to grab Dawn and force her back down before she was able to stand up completely. “Oh no you’re not!” she exclaimed.

“Come on, Marianne, he’s the first guy you’ve been remotely interested in since—“ Dawn started, then stopped herself when she realized where she was going. “—okay, in a while, and I’m just saying that it’s nice to see! You should go and talk to him!”

“Just because some strange man and I looked at each other doesn’t mean anything,” Marianne argued. “And besides, I’m not going to go over there and disturb him while he’s eating, it would be rude!”

Dawn only gave Marianne a disbelieving look. “I think you should at least find out who he is,” she said. “Sunny, what do you think?”

Sunny, who had already started eating, looked up at the sisters when Dawn addressed him. Then he shook his head as he swallowed his mouthful of food. “Uh-uh, I’m staying out of this one. Besides, that guy looks kind of scary, anyway.”

“Let it go, Dawn,” Marianne fussed, picking up her fork and taking a bite of her food. Dawn made an exasperated noise and began eating.

“I think I recognize him, though,” Dawn commented. “I just wish I could remember what his name was.”

“ _Dawn_ ,” Marianne warned. Dawn rolled her eyes and continued eating.

 

Bog cast another look back at the table where the woman with the golden-brown eyes was sitting. He didn’t know why he couldn’t stop staring at her. It wasn’t like he was even interested in having anything to do with women. He hadn’t been for a long while now.

So what was it about this one? Was it the unusual shade of her eyes? They were certainly pretty, he’d give her that one. Or was it the fact that unlike every single other female in this room or that he had ever met, she had her hair cut to the nape of her neck? He vaguely wondered what had happened to make her either want or need to do something like that. Or maybe it was her overall demeanor. She appeared to be a small slip of a woman. Granted she had been sitting down when he had first seen her, so he might be underestimating her size. But she still looked like she was ready to break a grown man in half at any second. He had a feeling she would be able to do it, too.

“Her name is Marianne Springwood, daughter of Dagda Springwood,” Stuff announced, interrupting his thoughts and nearly making him leap out of his chair.

Bog swung around to face Stuff, his cheeks heating up. She was watching him carefully and fighting back a smile.

“Sorry, sir, you just seemed interested,” she explained.

“Well, I wasn’t!” Bog snarled. A quick glance at Brutus and Thang told him that if either one of them had noticed Bog’s staring, they hadn’t let on. Thang, in fact, had seemed more interested in everything else going on in the room than what was going on at the table.

“By the way, the other woman is her sister Dawn and the man is their escort, Sunny Elfman. Not that you were interested,” Stuff continued as Bog returned to eating his dinner. Bog glared at her in response. Stuff ignored it and returned to her own plate and rejoined Brutus and Thang, who were chatting about everything they had seen so far on the ship.

So much for being discreet. Bog had to force down the urge to let his eyes drift over to Marianne Springwood again. What in the hell was wrong with him?

He tried instead to shift his attention to what Stuff, Thang, and Brutus were talking about when he overheard the Springwood sisters’ names being mentioned at the neighboring table.

“…heard the eldest one there was engaged to be married some time ago,” one of the women said in what she probably thought was a low voice to another woman next to her.

“Her name is Marianne, isn’t it?” the second woman said. At the first woman’s confirmation, the second woman continued. “I remember seeing a photograph of her fiancé in the newspapers, and he was _really_ handsome. But then she suddenly ended the engagement, and two days before the wedding at that!”

The first woman gasped quietly as if the news had had some reason to personally affect her. “Does anyone know why?” she asked.

“No. But if you ask me, it wasn’t good enough. If you ever get to see this man, you’ll understand why. She should have married him anyway. I imagine any woman would be lucky to have him.”

Bog could feel the scowl coming over his face. How was it anyone else’s business why Miss Springwood chose to end her engagement? His oncoming temper was also fueled by the fact that he couldn’t figure out why he was feeling so defensive over a woman he didn’t even know.

“I don’t find it terribly surprising,” the first woman said. “Those two girls don’t seem to have an ounce of sense between them. Look at them, they’re even allowing a black man to eat with them! Haven’t they considered how people might—“ But her tirade to her friend was cut off when they both noticed that Bog couldn’t restrain himself from shooting a hot glare at them. Both women immediately went pale and changed the subject.

When Bog turned back to his table, he found Stuff, Thang, and Brutus all watching him.

“Sir, you know what your mother would say about you glaring at strangers, right?” Stuff said.

“Yes, and do you know what I’m going to say if you say that again?” Bog responded sweetly. Stuff was unperturbed by it and only shook her head.

 

Marianne, Dawn, and Sunny were nearly finished eating. Dawn had given up trying to identify the blue-eyed man on the other side of the dining hall (for now, at least. Marianne knew better than to expect that she would give up that easily) and she and Sunny were now deep in a discussion about everything they could do on the ship. Marianne’s attention drifted in and out of their conversation. She knew there was a lot to keep someone occupied on this ship, but honestly, she had no interest in a lot of it. She did plan to make use of the gymnasium at some point, and if she could, she intended to slip down to the second class library to see what it had to offer. But she had no real plans beyond that.

More than anything, Marianne kept getting distracted by the chatter going on around her. It wasn’t that she was intentionally eavesdropping or anything. No, it was more like the people at the surrounding tables weren’t being as quiet as they thought they were being. A few times she caught snatches of gossip pertaining to people she didn’t know and therefore had no interest in. Either that or they were talking about what had happened with the near-collision earlier that day, and Marianne had heard all she had cared to hear about on the subject thanks to Dawn.

For some reason, though, these people seemed more interested in her story. More than once she overheard exchanges that had to do with her broken engagement, coupled with their unwanted opinions on the matter. Most of society would have had her marry Roland anyway, even if they had known about his adultery. It’s just what men do, they would say. Well, not to her, they wouldn’t. Marianne didn’t care if it was a selfish thought or not.

She also caught some of what they were saying about Sunny, and those particular comments were really grating on her nerves. She now had to seriously quell the urge to get up and punch the next person who made a remark about letting him eat with them.  It was only the thought of spending the rest of the trip in the Master-At-Arms’ office or confined to her stateroom that kept her from actually doing it.

She knew she should probably stop listening to other people’s conversations. All they were doing was making her angry. But it was either that or let her mind wander, and it was insistent on wandering to that man with the blue eyes. What the hell was wrong with her? She kept having to remind herself that she had sworn off of men. Especially men with eyes that blue and shoulders that broad and no _No NO_! She was not doing this!  

Marianne suddenly found herself ready to go back to her room for the night. Before she could interrupt Dawn and Sunny to excuse herself, though, the absolute last thing she would have ever wanted to have happen to her suddenly did.

Roland Knight himself had strolled into the dining hall.

He’d apparently already spotted her, because he was headed her way. Marianne didn’t even have a chance to escape the room before he was standing by their table.

“Marianne! Darling!” he said a bit more loudly than was considered polite and simultaneously interrupting Dawn and Sunny, who stared up at him in shock.

Dawn was the first to recover her voice. “Didn’t you go back to Texas?” she asked.

Roland deliberately ignored her. “Sweetheart, I’m so glad I finally found you!” he said to Marianne, again rather loudly. Marianne hadn’t forgotten about Roland’s love of being the center of attention, and it was working, because he was beginning to draw attention. He likely thought that if she knew people were watching, she would be a lot less likely to yell at him. Well, he had another thing coming if that was his plan. Her expression morphed from shocked to infuriated in half a second, but Roland gave no indication at all that this bothered him.

“Well, I’m not glad, so would you mind leaving?” she growled.

Roland only laughed it off. “Come on, darling, don’t you miss me, even just a little?”

“No, I don’t, and don’t call me darling,” Marianne snarled back, rising out of her chair. “Now get out of here.”

“Aw, come on, darling, I only want to apologize!” Roland said, ignoring her requests and her increasing rage. “It was just one little mistake! I’m still willing to marry you if you’ll just forgive me.”

Marianne was beginning to see red. It was also starting to go quiet in the dining hall, and she could hear Sunny’s and then Dawn’s chairs scraping back as they too stood up. She refused to take her attention off of Roland, though.

“ _Little?!_ ” she scoffed.

“Yes, little!” Roland said. “Now if you’ll just—“ But here Roland had made the mistake of grabbing Marianne’s arm. With an enraged cry, Marianne shook his arm off and both of her hands shot out to shove him bodily away from her and into the next table over. The people sitting at it jumped up and away from the table before their plates could fall over onto their laps.

Roland had managed to stay on his feet, but that was just as well. Marianne could feel herself bowing up, and had Roland hit the floor, she would have given in to the urge to kick him. She settled for crowding into his personal space and she could feel a deadly calm sweep over her that seeped into her voice.

“You have some nerve to come in here,” she began. Roland had begun backing up. Marianne only followed him.

“I know what you really want,” she continued, and she knew her voice was starting to climb, but she was way past the point of caring. “And if you think you’re getting it, you are _soooo_ sadly mistaken.”

“Now, hold on there darling—“ Roland tried to interject. They were halfway across the dining hall now, and Roland was finally starting to look properly worried.

“And if you think,” Marianne said over him, “for a _split second_ that I will _ever_ take you back, then bear in mind it will be a _very_ cold day in _Hell_ before that _ever_ happens, you lying, cheating, manipulative, Back-Stabbing _Son_ _of a Bitch_!!” And here they had reached the entrance to the dining hall, and here Roland tripped over the threshold as Marianne forced him over it.

The two stewards at the door managed to catch him by the arms before he could hit the floor and helped him to right himself.

“Sir, I think it best if you leave now,” one of them said, moving to stand between him and the door. The other one was trying to steer him towards the staircase.

Satisfied that the crew had Roland in hand for now, Marianne turned around. Most of the room had gone quiet, and Sunny and Dawn were still standing next to their table. Marianne ignored everyone else and stalked back to her table, her head held high.

“Remind me to never make you angry,” Sunny said as soon as Marianne had reached the table. Marianne snorted and reached for her wine glass and then took another look around the room. Everyone else had returned to their dinners and now had a new subject of gossip to chew on.

Then her eyes fell on the blue-eyed man on the other side of the room. It appeared he and his people had watched the entire exchange as well. His mouth was slanted up in a grin and he looked ready to double over laughing at any second. Marianne could feel her lips quirking up in response. Then he picked up his own wine glass and raised it to her. She tilted hers in his direction and they both drank. Then she put her glass down and ushered Dawn and Sunny, who had watched the silent exchange, out of the dining hall and back to their rooms.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite what had happened before she had left the dining hall, Marianne was still seething as she, Dawn, and Sunny made their way back to Marianne and Dawn’s stateroom on B Deck. How, _how_ had Roland managed to find her? And half way around the world, no less?

The three of them were almost back to their room, and apparently Marianne had started snarling curse words under her breath, because the next thing she knew, Dawn was grabbing her shoulder.

“Language,” Dawn reminded. Sunny moved around the both of them to unlock the door. (Marianne was grateful for that. She probably would have broken the door, and her father wouldn’t have been too pleased to learn that she owed the White Star Line for property damage.)

Once they were safely in the room and Sunny had the door shut behind him, Marianne let her temper explode.

“ _How_ in the _hell_ is he on this damn ship?!” Marianne raged as she started pacing around the room. “What happened to going back to Texas? _Why the hell is he here?!?!_ ”

“I think the _why_ is pretty obvious,” Dawn said gently. Marianne looked over to where they had sat down on the sofa. They were both giving her sympathetic looks.

“Technically, the _how_ is pretty obvious as well,” Sunny pointed out.

Marianne returned to her pacing. “But he was supposed to have been in Texas when we left for Italy. There was no way he should have been able to follow us.”

“That was what it said in all the papers,” Dawn confirmed. “He returned to Houston the day before we planned to leave, and no reason for it was given.”

“Then how did he hear about our travel plans?” Marianne said. “Who would have told him where we were going?”

Sunny and Dawn glanced at each other helplessly, and then back at Marianne. They didn’t even need to say that they had no more of a clue about this than she did. Marianne flopped down in an armchair and started massaging her temple.

“And neither of you saw him on the ship when you were on deck earlier?”

“Trust me, I would have recognized that perfect head of hair anywhere,” Sunny answered while Dawn shook her head no. “We just left Cherborg. He might have boarded there.”

Marianne squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel a serious tension headache building up. “Nice. Now I get to spend the next week trying to avoid him.”

“Maybe he’ll get off in Ireland tomorrow?” Dawn said hopefully.

“As long as Marianne is on board? Not a chance of that,” Sunny said.

“Well, then, _we_ could get off at Ireland,” Dawn suggested.  Marianne looked up at her and for a few seconds she actually considered it. But then she shook her head.

“No. No, we’re not getting off. I’m not going to let my life be dictated by a braying jack ass who can’t take _no_ for an answer.” Marianne said.

“Are you sure? You know he’s only going to find a way to upset you again,” Dawn said.

“I know, but I can handle him. I’m not going to let him run me off of this ship,” Marianne stated with a note of finality.

Dawn blinked for a second and then smiled at her. Then she stood up. “Good, because I didn’t want to get off anyway!”

Marianne couldn’t help snorting out a giggle. She could feel some of the tension releasing from her body.

“So I suppose you’re off to explore the ship then?” Marianne asked.

“Yep! You can come if you want,” Dawn said.

“No thanks, I think I’m going to read for a while and then head to bed.”

Dawn shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she said, grabbing Sunny by the hand and hauling him to his feet and towards the door.

“Try to get her to come back at a decent time,” Marianne called to Sunny as they left.

“No promises,” Sunny called back before the door shut behind him.

Marianne laughed again as she got up and went to change into her nightgown.

 

Bog and Brutus made their way through the corridors in companionable silence. After dinner, Bog shocked everyone again when he announced that he wanted to take a walk around the ship. Stuff and Thang had decided that they were tired and wanted to go to bed. Brutus had agreed to accompany Bog, as he wasn’t that tired yet. So Stuff and Thang had gone back to their stateroom, and Bog and Brutus were now somewhere on C Deck. And judging by the music emanating down the hall and steadily growing louder, they were near the third class smoking room.

If Bog was being honest with himself, this sudden middle-of-the-night tour of the ship didn’t have so much to do with curiosity anymore as it did with the need to distract his mind from straying to Miss Marianne Springwood. Where nearly everyone else of their particular social status would probably be verbally shredding Miss Springwood for the next month over what had happened that night, Bog was nothing short of impressed with the way she had handled that pompous, overbearing fool. He would happily admit to anyone that he had nothing but the utmost respect for a woman that could take care of herself, and Miss Springwood could certainly do that.

Bog had also started to wonder about the man that she had chased out of the dining hall. It had to be her ex-fiancé; she had mentioned not taking him back, and it would have made no sense for her to lose her temper on a random stranger. And Miss Springwood did not strike him as the type to do such a thing.

Bog had also decided that the man was in fact an idiot. A smarter man would have backed off and left a woman alone the second she showed the slightest hint of anger aimed at him. Bog himself had been able to see the fire snapping behind those beautiful golden eyes from across the room and _whoa whoa hold up there she most certainly did NOT have beautiful eyes!!!_

Jesus, he needed a distraction. Yes, this woman had given a pretty impressive public display that she had no intention of forgiving her ex over whatever had happened, but he was NOT attracted to her because of it. In fact, he was NOT attracted to her at all. And whatever was going on with them was none of his business.

“Are you okay, sir?” Brutus suddenly asked, cutting off his thoughts.

“Yes, why?” Bog answered.

“You were just growling,” Brutus said.

Bog started grinding his teeth. He’d had no idea that he’d made any noise.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” Bog gritted out. Brutus arched an eyebrow at him, but thankfully let the matter drop.

“Where are we, anyway?” Brutus said. They were now stopped outside the doorway where the music was pouring out of.

“Must be third-class,” Bog said, looking through the open doorway. There was a band in the corner of the room, and a lot of the people were dancing. Others were either clustered around tables or standing in small groups and talking. There were glasses of beer and other assorted liquors in nearly everyone’s hands.

“You want to go in?” Brutus said, taking his own look around the room.

“No, let’s—“ but Bog stopped short when he saw a familiar head of bright blonde hair at one of the tables. It had appeared that the younger Springwood sister had found her way to third-class and made some new friends, because she wasn’t alone. Sitting next to her was her manservant, who looked very much like he was trying—and failing—to get her to leave. Bog stepped into the room, a confused Brutus right behind him. He knew Brutus’s confusion cleared up when he heard the softly muttered “uh-oh” behind him.

As Bog drew closer to where Dawn Springwood was sitting, it became more and more obvious why her escort was trying to get her out of there. She was dangerously close to becoming black-out drunk.

Bog and Brutus picked up their pace. As they drew closer, Bog could hear bits and pieces of the conversation Miss Springwood was having with one of the equally-drunken men crowded around her, only to realize that it wasn’t a conversation at all, but an argument that was getting more and more heated by the second.

Well, this certainly didn’t bode well.

Bog stopped next to the table in time to hear what the man said next: “Well, then, if you won’t come with us, then how about we go with you, huh? Have some fun with both you and your sister in that fancy cabin upstairs?” The men around him laughed.

A black look came over the younger Springwood sister’s face. Bog had the feeling if any of those men had been sober, they would have taken it as the warning it was and made themselves scarce immediately. Bog cleared his throat, which fortunately caught the attention of Miss Springwood’s manservant. He seemed to recognize Bog, and relief washed over his face.

“Care for a hand?” Bog asked him.

“Yes!” was his vehement answer.

But before Bog could move in to extricate Miss Springwood, the man she had been arguing with opened his mouth again. “I bet you anything this one’s sister is a good lay in bed!”

And that had done it. Before Bog, Brutus, or Miss Springwood’s manservant could even move, Miss Springwood herself had shot up, shoved the table out of the way, and with a banshee-like scream the flat of her hand came down hard across the man’s face. She had slapped him so hard, he went flying out of his chair and his head connected with a neighboring table.

Bog took the chance to step in before anyone else could. “Miss Springwood, is it?” he said to her.

It took her a few seconds to register that someone was talking to her, and then another few seconds to turn towards him. And then another few seconds to actually answer him. “Yesh?”

“It’s time to leave, Miss Springwood,” Bog said patiently.

“But I don’ wan’ to! I’m having fun!” she slurred out.

“Dawn, let’s do what the man said and get out of here,” her escort pleaded.

“Oh, a Scotsman, huh?” one of the other men piped up, ambling up to Bog in a drunken stagger and crowding into his personal space. “And a rich one, at that! Well, it doesn’t matter. You heard the lady, she doesn’t want to leave!”

Bog narrowed his eyes at the man. “Back off,” he growled.

“Or what?” the man challenged. “You’ll have your guard here beat me to within an inch of my life?” The other men laughed at this.

Bog did his best to ignore him, he really did. But the idiot wouldn’t be deterred. Right as he was turning back to Miss Springwood, the man made the mistake of trying to make a grab for Bog. Bog responded by swiftly blocking the man’s arm with his own and then balling up the fist of his other hand and ramming it into the man’s solar plexus.

As the man clutched his arms around his midsection and fell to his knees trying to regain his breath, Bog locked eyes with the other men. “Anyone else have a problem with me taking the lady back to her room?” he announced. They all decided on the wiser course of action by backing off and taking their two injured friends with them.

Bog turned back to Miss Springwood and her manservant. He didn’t think he had ever seen anyone look as relieved as Miss Springwood’s escort did in that moment.

“What’d you do tha’ for?!” Miss Springwood exclaimed. “They were my friends!”

Bog decided that trying to lecture her on how those people were most certainly _not_ her friends would only be lost on her right now. He met her hazy, drunken gaze steadily. “Miss Springwood, you have two choices. You can walk out of here on your own or I can carry you out. Either way, you’re leaving right now.”

Miss Springwood stared at him for a moment. “Alrigh’, fine, you win. Let’s go, Sunny,” she slurred out.

The manservant, Sunny, looked all too happy to comply with this order. He hooked a hand under one of her arms while Bog took her other. The both of them guided her out of the room with Brutus following.

 

“I owe you for that,” Sunny said to Bog once they were out of the room and down the hallway. Dawn had broken free of their hold on her arms nearly the instant they were in the hallway and wandered down it ahead of them, and Bog was worried for a moment that she was going to try to escape from them so she could go back. Fortunately, though, she was headed in the direction of the nearest stairway. Brutus was bringing up the rear, just to make sure Miss Springwood’s “friends” didn’t try to follow them.

“Don’t worry about it. I just didn’t want to see her get hurt,” Bog said.

Sunny huffed out an unamused chuckle and shoved a hand through his hair. “And I was supposed to make sure nothing like this happened to her. Marianne’s gonna kill me, I just know it. Oh, Sunny Elfman, by the way,” he said, extending his other hand towards Bog.

“Broderic King,” Bog answered, shaking Sunny’s hand. “And what were you two doing down here, anyway?”

Sunny nodded towards Miss Springwood, who had reached the staircase and was attempting to climb it on her own. “Dawn wanted to explore the ship. What about you two?”

“Same thing,” Bog answered. Dawn had only made it up the first three steps, which Bog found impressive, considering how drunk she was. Now she was clutching the banister and doing her level best to not fall on her face. Sunny and Bog both wordlessly took her by the arms again and helped her up the stairs.

About halfway up them, Miss Springwood tripped, and might have fallen had it not been for Bog and Sunny’s grip on her. Rather unfortunately for Bog, though, she landed against his chest. And then inhaled deeply.

“Ooooh, you smell nice!” she giggled. “Gotta make sure to tell Marianne.”

Bog could feel his cheeks heating up. “Ummm…” was all he could manage as a response. 

Then she shook off Sunny’s grip on her arm so she could throw both of them around Bog’s waist. Bog didn’t miss that Sunny looked slightly wounded when she did. When he tried to get her to release him, though, it was to no avail. She wouldn’t let go. They were forced to climb the rest of the way up the stairs that way, Bog keeping one hand awkwardly on her shoulder. Bog also caught Brutus trying to suppress a smile out of the corner of his eye and shot him a glare.

“She thinksh you’re handsome, by th’ way,” Miss Springwood continued as they arrived at B Deck and started making their way down the corridors towards her stateroom. Bog’s face turned a deeper shade of red and he had to clench his jaw shut to keep himself from saying something foolish. He had never in his life encountered a woman who would have used the word “handsome” to describe him. Bog reminded himself that she was drunk and likely didn’t even know what she was saying.

“For that matter, so do I!” Miss Springwood suddenly started giggling. “God, you have such gorgeous eyes…” And then her hands drifted under his jacket and were running up and down his ribs.

That was it. Bog stopped dead in the middle of the hallway and pried Miss Springwood’s arms from around him. Then he held them firmly up in between them and was finally able to put some space between the two of them. He offered her what he hoped looked like a patient smile.

“Let’s just walk, Miss Springwood, okay?” he implored her, trying to pull her down the hall with him.

“Dawn,” she corrected. She refused to budge from where they were standing.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m not takin’ another shtep until you call me Dawn,” she demanded.

“Okay, fine, _Dawn_. Now let’s go,” Bog insisted. Dawn threw her arms back around his waist and started walking again.

“By th’ way, what’s your name?” Dawn asked after a (thankfully) silent minute of walking.

“Broderic King,” Bog answered without looking at her.

“Well, Bodr—Brdo—ugh! That’s too hard! I’m calling you something else!”

Bog looked down at her in horror.

“Oh, no,” Sunny murmured, massaging his forehead. Bog decided to take that as the warning it clearly was.

“Bog! Call me Bog,” he said quickly. He could hear Brutus choking on a laugh that he covered with a cough. Bog glared at him again.

“Boggy! Yes, Boggy. I like tha’ better,” Dawn giggled out again. Bog rolled his eyes. He could only hope that she would forget about her new nickname for him by morning.  

“Anyway, Boggy, I can shee why Marianne was tryin’ to not shtare at you all night,” Dawn hiccupped out. Her voice was now muffled where she had her face buried in his chest. Bog could feel yet another blush coming on. Before he could respond, though, Dawn suddenly stopped and slumped against his chest.

“Uh-oh,” Sunny said, grabbing Dawn’s shoulders and gently shaking her. “Dawn?” he called.

Dawn didn’t give any indication that she’d heard him. Instead, she nuzzled her face into Bog’s chest. Bog let out an exasperated huff.

“How far from her stateroom are we?” he asked Sunny.

“Not far. We just need to turn up ahead here and then turn again and we’re there.”

“Right,” Bog said. Then he disentangled Dawn’s arms from around him again. Then he wound one arm around her shoulders, bent over, and hooked his other arm under her knees. Bog lifted her up into his arms, and her head slumped against his shoulder. One of her hands came up to fist into the lapel of his jacket.

“Lead the way,” he told Sunny.

 

Marianne stared out of the window at the night-darkened sea. She had tried to read for a while like she told Dawn and Sunny she was going to do, but it just wasn’t happening. Only she hadn’t returned to fuming over Roland like she might have expected to. No, the man with the blue eyes from the dining hall had slipped to the front of her mind and stayed there.  What was it about him that wouldn’t leave her alone? She tried to remember if she had possibly seen him somewhere in one of the cities they had visited, but came up short.

And she certainly would have remembered if she had ever met him before. Because how could any woman forget eyes that blue? Or hair that thick and dark? As dark as the night sky she was looking at right now and now her fingers were itching to run through it and _that’s it, it was time for bed_.

Except that Dawn hadn’t come back yet. Marianne leaned her forehead against the window frame. Knowing Dawn, she had probably found her way down to third-class and gotten herself drunk by now. Marianne thought maybe she should put her shoes on and go look for Dawn and Sunny. No doubt he was having a tough time wrangling her by now. Then again, he could have decided to just take her to his cabin. Marianne rejected that idea right away. If Dawn was where she thought Dawn was, then Sunny’s cabin was still a deck below that one. It would make no sense to take her there.

Then again, she could just go to bed. It would teach Sunny a lesson about letting Dawn drink so much, letting him handle her by himself. God knew she could use the sleep right then.

Just then, a knock on the door broke into her inner debate. At this time of the night, there were only two things it could be, and she was hoping it was the first one. Marianne went to the door and opened it…

…to find the object of her earlier thoughts standing there.

 Dawn was passed out in his arms, one of her hands fisted in the lapel of his jacket. Beside him stood a very contrite-looking Sunny, and behind them both was the larger of the two men from the blue-eyed man’s group.

Marianne and the man blinked at each other for a full two seconds before she was able to remember why he was standing there. Then she looked from Dawn to Sunny and folded her arms over her chest.

“Let me guess, you two found your way to the third-class common room and she got herself drunk,” Marianne said.

Sunny rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, the smoking room, but yeah, that’s basically it.”

Marianne rolled her eyes, then pulled open the door and indicated the direction of Dawn’s bedroom. “Her bed is through there,” she told the man still holding Dawn. He wordlessly carried Dawn in and followed the direction Marianne had indicated. She could have sworn he blushed again.

Marianne followed him into Dawn’s bedroom and slid her shoes off as he was laying her down on the bed. However, when he went to disengage her hand from his jacket, Dawn decidedly wasn’t having it. She suddenly rolled over, and he grunted out a curse as Dawn nearly pulled him down with her. He was forced to brace his hand on the wall above the bed to keep his balance. Seeing that he wasn’t going to get her to let go of him right then, he unbuttoned his jacket and slid his arm out of it, then twisted around and shrugged the jacket off.

Much to the man’s obvious dismay, Marianne couldn’t stop a snort of laughter. He definitely blushed that time.

“I’m—“ Marianne drew in a breath to regain her composure, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh,” she apologized.

“Umm…it’s—“ he cleared his throat, “ It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” he said. When he reached down to pry his jacket out of her hand, however, Dawn wound her arms around it and rolled over on top of it.

Marianne clapped a hand over her mouth and tried to suppress another snort of laughter. “Forget it, I don’t think you’re going to get it back until tomorrow at the earliest,” she told the man. He sighed in defeat as she moved around the bed to turn off the lamp. The two of them then left the room.

“Thank you for bringing her back, Mr…” Marianne prompted as soon as they were back in the sitting room and the door to Dawn’s room was shut behind them.  

“Uhh, King,” he cleared his throat again. Was it Marianne’s imagination, or did he look slightly nervous? “Broderic King.”

“Thank you, Mr…” and then Marianne recognized his name. “Wait, are you _that_ Broderic King?! Of the worldwide engineering empire?” Marianne couldn’t stop herself from gaping at him.

Mr. King’s face colored slightly and a hand went to rub the back of his neck. He visibly winced at having been recognized. “Uhh, yes, I’m _that_ Broderic King,” he confirmed.

It took Marianne a few seconds to shake off her shock. “Umm, well, yes…okay, that’s…” then she cleared her throat and mentally smacked herself. “So how did you find my sister?” she finally asked, shaking off the last of her surprise.

Mr. King then explained how he came across Dawn and Sunny in third class. Sunny jumped in when he got to the part where Dawn slapped the man for what he said about Marianne. Marianne’s eyebrows went up at this.

“Dawn actually _hit_ someone?” she said. Then she looked back at Dawn’s bedroom, as if Dawn herself would wake up and confirm this.

“It was rather impressive too,” Mr. King said. “I would have never thought such a wee thing could slap a grown man that hard.”

“Huh,” Marianne said. To Marianne’s memory, Dawn had never hit anyone in her life. She vaguely wondered if Dawn would even remember what happened come morning. “So then what happened?”

“We had to convince her that she wanted to leave, but we got her out of there, and she passed out just before we arrived back here,” Mr. King finished.

Marianne let out an aggravated huff. She was impressed with what Dawn did and would have to remember to thank her for it, but still. She didn’t want to think about what might have happened if Mr. King hadn’t intervened.

She turned to Sunny. “You get to take care of her tomorrow while she’s hung over,” Marianne announced. “So I suggest you go and get some sleep.”

Sunny groaned in disgust. He and Marianne both knew Dawn already didn’t handle alcohol very well, and she also didn’t handle being hung over very well.

“I guess I had this coming. Alright, I’ll be back first thing in the morning,” Sunny said. “Good night, Marianne.”

“Good night, Sunny,” Marianne said to him as he left. Then she turned to Mr. King.

“Thank you again for your help, Mr. King,” she told him. “I’ll see that your jacket gets returned to you tomorrow.”

“Oh, there’s no rush,” he answered, then seemed to realize what he said. His cheeks colored and he coughed. “I—I mean, I have plenty of others, I don’t need it right away…”

Marianne smiled and refused to think about how adorable he looked when he was flustered.

“A-anyway, good night, Miss Springwood,” he continued.

“Good night, Mr. King,” she said. He made a rather hasty retreat from her stateroom.

Marianne shut the door behind him and then leaned on it for a moment. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out why she was smiling. Or why she was suddenly so excited to see him again. Or why the sound of his voice made her want to melt. She shook her head and went to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is rather short, but I needed it to end here. Considering what's coming, future chapters are going to be getting longer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this one decided to put up a fight, and I'm not totally happy with it, but I didn't want to keep y'all waiting much longer. So here it is.

April 11, 1912

Titanic _makes one more stop at Queenstown (now known as Cobh), Ireland for a final passenger pick-up/drop-off at approximately 12:30 PM. She departs for New York at approximately 2 PM without incident. The weather is fair and promises to remain that way for the entire trip._

_For the next few days after that, there is not much to speak of happening among the passengers other than the fact that they are going about their own business on the ship. It is only slightly different among the crew. Thomas Andrews, the ship’s designer, is riding on_ Titanic’s _maiden voyage to help work out any problems with the ship, and did have to help handle a few minor problems as they arose. Joseph Bruce Ismay, Chairman of the White Star Line, is also on board. He was extremely proud of_ Titanic _and wanted to see what she could do. Namely, he wanted to see if she could outstrip other ships for speed._ Titanic’s _engines have the ability to go as fast as 25 knots, which most ships of the day were not capable of. This meant that he was constantly after Captain Smith to increase the ship’s speed. Captain Smith, against his better judgment, complied with Ismay’s demands. This is despite the fact that other ships ahead of them are reporting ice on_ Titanic’s _planned course._

_Also of note is_ Titanic’s _wireless office. The ability to send messages remotely was something of a novelty with the passengers, and many of them wanted to take advantage of this. Unfortunately, the wireless room is only manned by two people for the entirety of the voyage. Though the two men are working 24 hours a day (which at the time was not required by law) this meant the wireless room is backed up with incoming and outgoing messages. Among the messages are the aforementioned ice warnings, which are arriving even before_ Titanic _makes her final stop at Queenstown._

 

Marianne took a deep breath of the fresh morning air as she made her way through the first-class entrance hall towards the ship’s gymnasium. She had only barely gotten a few hours of sleep the night before. A certain blue-eyed Scotsman kept intruding in her dreams. When he did, she would wake up, manage to shake off the thought, and get back to sleep, only to have it happen again. After the fourth time she gave up trying to go back to sleep. Marianne had to remind herself that she had sworn off of men ever since Roland.

As soon as that thought had occurred, she remembered that Roland was on the ship too, and then sleep just became impossible. There was, of course, the slim chance that he would be disembarking when they reached Queenstown later that day, but Marianne had the feeling that it was like Sunny said. He wouldn’t be getting off the ship as long as Marianne was there. This, coupled with her lack of sleep, only made her irritated.

Fortunately this ship had been built with a gymnasium, and she had brought her fencing foil with her on their trip so she could practice. An early morning workout and some practice sounded like an excellent idea. And at this time of the morning, the only people awake would be the crew. She would have the place to herself. And she didn’t anticipate Dawn waking up for a while yet.

 So Marianne changed into her bloomers and a loose-fitting blouse, put on her boots, grabbed the case her foil was resting in, and after checking on Dawn (who she hadn’t bothered undressing the night before, because she thought it might serve as a lesson to let her not only sleep in her corset, but also in what happened to be her favorite dress, and also discovering that she still wouldn’t be able to rescue Mr. King’s jacket right away) headed up to the boat deck and towards the gymnasium.

Marianne arrived to find the gymnasium empty, as she was hoping. She set her case down, and after some warm-up stretching, she rolled up her sleeves, unpacked her foil, and began practicing.

 

 Bog arrived at the boat deck and turned towards the gymnasium, foil case in hand. He was glad that it was as early as it was. Considering the mood he’d woken up in, he really didn’t feel like encountering anyone or answering questions about it.

He’d been tossing and turning the better part of the night. A golden-brown eyed American woman with a fiery temper kept appearing in his dreams. He finally gave up on sleep in favor of attempting to work out the mathematics on one of the many schematics he had been working on, only to find he couldn’t concentrate on that either. After the fifth time of winding up with the wrong figure, he shoved the work aside and decided he needed to work out this excess energy. So he threw on a shirt, a pair of trousers, and his boots, grabbed his fencing foil, and headed upstairs to the ship’s gymnasium.

He was tempted to bang his head on the wall on the way up there. He had work to do; he didn’t have time to start fancying women who most likely wouldn’t want him anyway. And if he was being completely honest with himself, a part of him wanted to do it because he had acted like a stuttering, blushing school boy in front of her. He was a grown man, goddamn it! He needed to get a hold of himself.

Bog arrived at the gymnasium and pushed open the door. And there, on the other side of the room, was the reason he couldn’t sleep the night before, a foil of her own in hand. Miss Springwood froze in the middle of thrusting her foil into the air in front of her when the door opened and looked up. She looked just as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

Bog was proud of himself that he didn’t blush and start stumbling over his words this time, although it was a couple of seconds before he actually spoke.

“Please, don’t stop on my behalf,” he said.

“No, no, it’s fine! I can leave if you want,” she offered, breaking out of her stance and her arms dropping to her sides.

He was confused at this. “Why?” he asked.

Miss Springwood’s cheeks turned red. “Well…just…” she stuttered, then let out a breath. “No reason,” she finally answered, looking away from him. Then she spied the case in his hand. “I guess you came here for the same reason?”

Bog glanced down at his case. “Yeah,” he said. Then he had an idea and looked back at her. “Care for a spar?” he asked.

This caught her attention. “What?” she answered, blinking at him.

“A spar? You know, you against me?”

Miss Springwood frowned at him in annoyance. “I know what a spar is!” she snapped. “I mean, you aren’t going to go all ‘chivalrous gentleman’ on me and lecture me on how women aren’t supposed to play with swords and how I could get hurt and that I shouldn’t be in here?”

Bog arched an eyebrow. “I could if you like, but I don’t see the point. You clearly seem to know what you’re doing, and it’s not every day I meet a woman who likes to fence,” he said.

He could see her rising temper dissolve from her face. “Oh,” she said.

“And besides, it’s better to practice against an opponent rather than by yourself, anyway,” he finished.

Miss Springwood smiled at this. “You’re right. Okay, I accept,” she said.

Bog found himself smiling back as he crossed the room and set his case down next to hers. He rolled his sleeves up as he unpacked his foil.

“Just don’t think I’m going to go easy on you because you’re a woman, now,” he jibed as he crossed the floor to take up a stance across from Miss Springwood.

“You know, I was thinking the same thing,” she answered, amusement glittering in her eyes and pulling at her lips.

“What do you mean?” he asked as he rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms.

“Only that I’m not going to go easy on you just because you’re a man,” she said, her grin widening.

He froze mid-stretch and stared at her wide-eyed for a moment. Then his own grin split across his face. “You’re on, Tough Girl,” he challenged. He twisted his neck to the side until it gave a satisfying _crack!_

At that moment, he caught a flash of something unreadable cross Miss Springwood’s eyes. But it was gone that quickly. Before he could assume his stance, though, she spoke again.

“How about upping the stakes a bit?” she suggested. His brows rose in interest.

“Go on,” he prompted.

“Loser buys dinner?”

Bog didn’t think it was possible for his smile to get any wider. He extended his hand. “Deal,” he said. Miss Springwood shook his hand, and Bog did his best to ignore how soft and warm her skin was. The two of them then moved into position across from each other and took up their stances.

Either Bog had still been somewhat underestimating her or he had become distracted by the feel of her hand in his anyway, because the second they began, she bore down on him like a tightly-controlled tornado and it was all he could do to block her every swing. She’d had him almost to the wall before he threw off one of her thrusts and started to fight back.

“Impressive!” he couldn’t help commenting as he slowly started to regain the upper hand, a smile pulling at his lips. Her lips pulled up at the corner at his complement, and now he nearly had her to the wall. He had meant it, too. Most people he had fenced against in the past weren’t nearly as good as she was proving to be. And he had to hand it to her, she was certainly giving him a run for his money.

But then she had found an opening and had very nearly scored a hit, and now he was back on the defensive. He found himself realizing that he was comparing her form to dancing. She was smooth and nearly flawless. It was clear she had taken a lot of time to practice. Then he found himself thinking that he’d like to actually dance with her one day. He faltered in a parry when he realized this and Miss Springwood very nearly scored a hit. Bog had managed to shake it off and recover, then aimed a thrust at a spot she had left unguarded, to which she immediately blocked.   

He was beginning to realize that their match was going on for far longer than one should have taken. He was also starting to realize that their respective moves were migrating from the realm of fencing into actual sword fighting. Bog found himself suddenly interested in the thought of handing her a real sword, just to see what she could do with it.

Then all of a sudden, one of his parries caught her foil just right, and the foil was out of her hand and clattering across the floor. Right as he was moving in to score a hit and end the match, the tip of his foil met air as she dove, rolled, and then her foil was back in her hand and she had regained her feet. 

His jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “Not bad,” he managed. He was starting to get winded from exertion.

“Thanks,” she huffed out. Then she was back on him, and Bog also realized right then that they weren’t keeping to their corner of the room or using standard forms any more as much as they were chasing one another around the room. That suited him fine. A standard, common fight would have just been boring in the end.

“I mean that,” he panted. “You fight well.”

Miss Springwood flashed him another smile. “Thank you, Mr. King. So do you.”

Another handful of minutes later, Bog wasn’t certain how many, he realized his moves were starting to get sloppy. And so were Miss Springwood’s. The both of them also had sweat dripping from their foreheads and soaking into their shirts.

And then finally, their foils _clacked!_ against one another before both of their arms dropped and the both of them doubled over out of breath, still facing one another. After a few seconds, Miss Springwood drew in a deep breath, lifted her arm, and tapped the tip of her foil to Bog’s shoulder. Then her arm dropped again, and this time, her foil slid out of her hand to clatter to the floor. Bog’s foil joined hers, only he had dropped his in disbelief.

Applause from the general direction of the doorway suddenly sprang up, surprising them both. Bog and Miss Springwood looked up to see several other people in the room. Bog had been so caught up in their match that he hadn’t heard anyone else come in. He and Miss Springwood looked back at one another and started laughing.

“So was that your plan? To just wear me down?” he teased.

“No,” she giggled, straightening up. “No, rest assured, I wanted a real fight. Thank you for giving me one.”

Bog straightened up as well, but before he could say anything, he was cut off by another voice.

“Yes, yes, that was well done,” said the blond man from the night before, his tone mocking as he approached the two of them. Bog could practically feel Miss Springwood going ice-cold next to him. And he could understand why; there was something about the man that got under Bog’s skin.

“Of course,” the man continued, as if he hadn’t noticed Miss Springwood going rigid and ignoring Bog completely, “you should enjoy playing your games while you can, because once you and I are married, you’re going to have to find something a little more ladylike to occupy your time with.”

Bog could feel his own temper rising to the surface as he spoke, even though he had no idea why. He had no clue what had happened between Miss Springwood and this man and therefore no reason to be involved, much less any reason to be letting himself get riled up over what he was saying. But Bog couldn’t seem to help himself. It was all he could do to refrain from punching the jack ass in his smug face.

Before Bog could give in to his impulses, and before anyone else could move in to do anything, Miss Springwood straightened up, and the same eerie calm he had watched take over her demeanor the night before was back.

“Roland,” she said as sweetly as she could manage while she stalked up to him like a predator cornering its prey, “you seem to have forgotten something.”

“And what’s that, sweetheart?” Roland asked, still mockingly and flashing a toothy grin.

Miss Springwood was now half an arm’s length away from him, and without further warning she grabbed him by one wrist, spun him around, and slammed him down as hard as she could over the top of the weight-lifting bench he had made the mistake of standing next to. Then she twisted his arm tightly behind him and held it down to his back while her other hand came up to the back of his neck and pinned him down. Roland let out a yelp of pain and Bog could swear he saw tears spring to the man’s moss-green eyes.

“You seem to have forgotten,” Miss Springwood snarled, “that there is _no_ circumstance or divine force _whatsoever_ that will compel me to marry you now or ever. Now, this is the _last time_ I am going to say this: you _will_ stay away from me and my sister and our escort or I _will_ throw you over the side of this ship. _Do not_ think for a second that I’m joking.” Then she released him, turned, and stalked back over to where she left Bog and her foil.

Bog and everyone else watching them were either wide-eyed, slack-jawed, or both. There was no doubt in Bog’s mind that Miss Springwood was more than capable of doing as she said, and if this Roland had any sense at all about him, he’d give the Springwood sisters and Mr. Elfman a wide berth. Bog had the feeling that Roland didn’t have that much sense about him, because he probably wasn’t going to let this go that easily.

While Miss Springwood was making her way back over to where Bog still stood, their audience had started to disperse to claim some of the equipment in the room. Brutus had fortunately been among them and planted himself between Roland and Miss Springwood’s path away from him. Roland surprised Bog by having enough sense to not try to take on someone twice his size and quickly turned and left the gymnasium.

Miss Springwood had reached him then and bent over to scoop up her foil. She released a pent-up breath as she straightened out. Bog reached down and picked up his own foil.

“Are you okay?” he asked her cautiously as the two of them made their way back over to their cases.

Miss Springwood nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I swear if that bastard has one talent in his life, it’s at wearing on my nerves.” They had reached their cases then, and Miss Springwood jammed her foil back in hers and slammed it shut. Bog packed his foil back up and closed his a bit more gently. Then the two of them picked up their cases and made their way out of the gymnasium. Several people gave Miss Springwood approving nods and smiles as they passed.

“I must admit,” Bog said as they made their way through the first-class entrance hall towards the grand staircase, “that that was really impressive.”

“Thank you,” Miss Springwood said, smiling at him. Then her smile waned. “I just wish it hadn’t been necessary,” she murmured.

“Nonetheless, I think he may have gotten the point,” Bog tried to soothe her. Comforting people was not his forte. The only thing he could think to do was to try and change the subject. They started down the grand staircase towards B deck.

“In the meantime, I did lose our match. I believe I owe you dinner,” he reminded. Miss Springwood glanced over at him. He couldn’t define her expression.

“If you’d rather not, though, I’ll understand,” he said quickly.

Miss Springwood smiled slowly in amusement as they made their way down the stairs. “Are you trying to back out of our deal, Mr. King?”

“Not at all!” Bog exclaimed. “I’m just trying to be considerate of a lady’s feelings, is all.”

Miss Springwood giggled. “Thank you for that, but I fully intend to hold you to our deal. I’ll meet you outside the dining hall tonight.”

Bog suddenly winced in apology. “Can we make it tomorrow night? I have a lot of work to see to that I can’t put off.” They were now in the hallway on B deck that led to their staterooms.

“Agreed, then,” Miss Springwood said, smiling. “Tomorrow night, in front of the dining hall.” Then her grin turned sly. “And don’t make me come looking for you.”

Bog grinned back. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Springwood.”

“Marianne,” she said suddenly. Then her cheeks flushed as she seemed to realize what she had just said. “Umm, please, call me Marianne.”

“Only if you’ll call me Bog,” he said, and it was his turn for his cheeks to flush. Just where in the hell had that come from?

Miss Springwood—Marianne—was the one to break the sudden awkward silence. “Tomorrow night, then, Mr. K—Bog,” she said, holding out her hand for a handshake.

Bog took her hand. “You’re welcome to invite your sister and your escort, if they’re willing,” he said.

“Will do!” Marianne said. Then, in another move that Bog had had no idea where he’d gotten the notion to do it from, he bent over her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“See you tomorrow, Marianne,” he said before he could stand there and over think what he was doing.

“See you tomorrow,” she answered breathlessly, and that same indefinable look that had flashed across her face earlier in the gymnasium remained on her face this time.

Bog turned and took his leave of her. He was nearly to his stateroom before he remembered that he never thought to ask about his jacket.

 

Marianne arrived back in her stateroom to find Dawn sprawled face down on the sofa. She had managed to change at some point, because now she was dressed in one of her more comfortable day dresses. Sunny was perched on the edge of the sofa next to her, rubbing her back.

“Good morning!” Marianne exclaimed as loudly and as brightly as she thought she could get away with. And it had the exact effect she intended: Dawn groaned loudly at the sudden noise and pulled a pillow over her head, and Sunny gritted his teeth and winced in sympathy. Then she all but slammed her foil case down on a nearby table.

“Ugh, _Marianne_ , can you _please_ keep it down?!” Dawn moaned from under her pillow.

“Nope!” Marianne said loudly. “Now let this be a lesson to you about getting into drunken brawls in steerage.”

Sunny squeezed his eyes shut while Dawn moaned in pain again. Well, at least one of them was feeling properly chastised.  

“By the way, breakfast is on its way up,” Sunny announced not quite as loudly.

“Good. I’m going to take a bath,” Marianne said, grabbing a change of clothes from her room. “Make sure she drinks something,” she said to Sunny as she headed into the bathroom, shutting the door much harder than necessary behind her.

 

Marianne emerged from the bathroom a little while later freshly cleaned and dressed to find that breakfast had arrived. Dawn had also managed to sit up, and Sunny was trying to get her to drink some tea.

“Come on, Dawn, I promise it’ll make you feel better,” Sunny coaxed.

“He’s right, now drink up,” Marianne said as she joined them and poured her own cup.

Dawn finally accepted the cup and reluctantly took a sip. “Fencing in the gymnasium?” she said to Marianne while Marianne was spreading butter on a slice of toast.

“Yeah,” Marianne answered as she took a bite of her toast.

“Alone?”

“N-no, uhh, Mr. King was there,” Marianne said around a mouthful of bread.

Dawn immediately perked up at this and whatever discomfort she was feeling seemed forgotten for the moment as her face lit up. “Really?” she said, not even trying to hide her amusement.

Marianne glared at her. “Before you get too excited, it turns out he likes to fence too. We sparred with one another, and that was it.”

“Sure it was,” Dawn placated.

 “It was, and I won, and I didn’t get to even enjoy it for long because Roland showed up,” Marianne snapped.

At least Sunny had the grace to be disturbed by this turn of events, even if Dawn didn’t look like it.

“Oh, no. What happened?” he said, reaching for his own teacup.

Marianne told them what had happened with Roland. When she finished, Sunny looked even more worried, and it looked like Dawn had actually forgotten about Bog for the time being.

“Marianne, I don’t like this,” Sunny said. “Maybe we should go talk to the Master-At-Arms. Or even the Captain. They can have him put on another ship or something.”

Marianne set her cup down. She’d lost her appetite, as what usually occurred when Roland was the topic of any conversation. “What good would that do?” she said. “He’ll only start up again as soon as he gets to New York, no matter how long it takes him to get there. It’s just delaying the inevitable.”

“But at least he’d be out of our hair for a little while. And you know he’s not going to let this go. You’ve publically embarrassed him twice now and even threatened him, and it doesn’t seem to be having an effect,” Sunny argued.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was desperate,” Dawn chimed in.

This got Marianne’s attention. “And that means he’ll eventually do something desperate,” she murmured. “You’re right, maybe I should go talk to the Master-At-Arms.”

Sunny looked relieved to hear this. “In the meantime,” Marianne continued, “since I’m pretty sure you two aren’t done exploring the ship, be careful.”

Dawn rolled her eyes and groaned like she usually did when Marianne said something like that. Marianne decided not to start an argument.   

“So what happened after that?” Dawn pressed.

“Mr. King and I left the gymnasium and came back downstairs,” Marianne answered as if there were nothing else to tell. Dawn saw right through it, though.

“And then…?” she prompted.

“And then what?” Marianne challenged.

“And then something else happened, and I want to know what it was!”

Marianne let out an exasperated sigh. It had to be the fact that her cheeks were turning red that was giving her away.

“And then he reminded me that we agreed that the loser would buy dinner, and then told me the two of you were invited, and that was it,” Marianne said, hoping it would satisfy Dawn.

It didn’t. “And…?” she pressed again.

“And _that was it_ ,” Marianne repeated through gritted teeth.

Dawn only smiled at her. “If that was it, then why are you blushing so much?” she pointed out while she took an oh-so-innocent sip of tea.

“ _I am not blushing!_ ” Marianne argued, knowing that it was a lie.

“Of course not,” Dawn placated, setting down her teacup and standing up. “Well, I’m going for a walk on the promenade. Maybe the fresh air will help my headache. I’ll stop by the wireless office while I’m out and have a message sent to Daddy that we’re underway.”

“Just remember that we’re having lunch at the Café Parisian later,” Marianne reminded her. “So try not to get drunk in steerage again. For that matter, try to stay out of steerage altogether.”

“Trust me, I’ve learned my lesson. I’m never drinking cheap beer again,” Dawn said. Marianne noticed that she didn’t say she wouldn’t go to third-class again.

“Dawn, I’m serious,” Marianne warned.

“Ugh! I know, I know. Come on, Sunny,” she said as she walked towards the door. Marianne rolled her eyes.

“Try not to spend all of your time thinking about Mr. King,” Dawn sang as she walked out of the room. Marianne glared at her back, and Sunny shot her an apologetic look as he followed Dawn.

Marianne flopped back in the chair as soon as they were gone and scrubbed her hands through her hair. What was the matter with her? Letting herself get worked up over a man? Well, two men at that. One of whom really wasn’t even worth the energy.

A knock at the door interrupted her train of thought. She went to answer it, fully bracing herself for it to be Roland.

Fortunately, it was only a stewardess there to collect the breakfast dishes. Marianne let her into the room with a relieved sigh and had to stop herself from banging her head on the door. She had to stop this. It was like Sunny said, she could go see the Master-At-Arms later. There was no point in getting stressed out over Roland Knight.

The stewardess finished her work quickly and then asked Marianne if she needed anything. When Marianne said no, the stewardess wished her a good morning and left.

When the door was shut and Marianne was finally alone, she wandered over to the window and gazed out. _Titanic_ was somewhere in the Celtic Sea and it was promising to be a nice day. In the distance the blue of the sky met the blue of the sea, and Marianne caught herself wondering which one matched Bog’s eyes more.

As soon as she realized that that was where her thoughts had gone, Marianne physically shook her head to force them away. Then her eyes fell on her right hand, the one Bog had kissed before he left for his own stateroom. He’d also shaken that hand earlier, when they had agreed to the terms of their match. And each time, he held on to it for slightly longer than Marianne guessed courtesy should have dictated. It had actually been…nice, if she had to put a word to it. Roland had certainly never made her feel that way on the rare occasion he held her hand, much less kissed it. Marianne smiled. She couldn’t help it.

But then she tore herself away from the window and started pacing the room. This was ridiculous. Bog was only being a gentleman, because that was the way a gentleman was supposed to act, wasn’t it? And besides, she had sworn off of love. She was NOT developing feelings for him, no matter what Dawn thought.

Then again, Roland had never treated her with so much respect. He had never treated her like her feelings mattered. In fact, he had never treated her like an equal. _Like a person._

As if that meant anything, though. Roland was hardly the standard for any kind of man, let alone a proper gentleman. A proper gentleman should show a woman courtesy and respect, especially one he barely knew.

Right?

Marianne made herself settle on that thought. He was just being friendly, that’s all it was. Besides, he probably had someone waiting on him in New York. And he didn’t strike her as the type to have an ulterior motive anyway. Marianne made a mental note that she would have to look up Bog’s mother when they got to New York and thank her for raising her son to be a decent person.

That settled, Marianne decided she needed something else to do and looked around for the book she had been trying to read the night before. As she looked around, she spotted Bog’s jacket lying over the back of the sofa. She picked it up to examine it. It was no worse for wear, only slightly wrinkled from where Dawn had been wrapped around it all night. And fortunately Dawn hadn’t thrown up on it or anything.

Marianne wondered if she should go ahead and bring it back to him. But he had said he had some work he’d needed to do. She decided that there was no need to bother him, she’d see him again tomorrow night at dinner. She could give it back to him then.

She went to lay the jacket back down, but then thought again and drew it in close to her face. She could smell a trace of Dawn’s perfume on it, but even stronger was the scent that seemed to be saturated into the fabric. It was a clean, earthy scent that made Marianne think of a deep forest.

Marianne giggled. Whatever he used that put that smell in his jacket suited him.

 

When Bog had arrived back at his stateroom, he had been really glad he had put Stuff, Thang, and Brutus in a separate stateroom. The aggravated snarl he had let out as soon as he had the door shut behind him would have woken either Stuff or Thang up, and they would have started asking questions, and he wasn’t in the mood to answer questions. At least until he cleaned up and changed and could think more clearly. Which he obviously hadn’t been doing out in the hallway with Marianne Springwood.

He had managed to focus on bathing and shaving, and he’d nearly finished dressing when Thang arrived. Breakfast was being brought up, he had announced. Then Stuff came in, and their breakfast came in right behind her. Brutus was still working out in the gymnasium and would join them later. As soon as they were done eating Thang was sent off to the wireless room with several messages to be sent out. Among them was one to his mother to let her know they were returning to New York.

He was now finishing delegating some other business-related matters to Stuff when he suddenly grew thoughtful.

“Is that all, sir?” she prompted him. She never failed to miss one of his thoughtful silences.

Bog drew in a breath. “I need you and Brutus to look into something for me, and I need it done quietly,” he told her.

“Of course, sir.” This hadn’t been the first time he had sent the two of them out to look for information for him, and he knew he could rely on them to turn something up.

“It’s about the man who incited the confrontation with Miss Springwood last night.”

“The pretentious blond one?”

Bog bit back a laugh, the description was so accurate. “Yes, that’s the one. His name is Roland.”

Stuff chewed her lip for a minute, and then her eyes widened with realization. “Not Roland Knight?”

Bog sat up. “So you’ve heard of him?”

“He’s been all over the gossip columns in the papers, yes.”

“I need you to see what else you can find out about him. Particularly, I want to know why he has such an obsessive interest in Marianne Springwood. “

“Sure thing, sir. But do you mind if I ask why?” Stuff asked.

Truthfully, Bog had no idea why. Whatever was going on between Marianne Springwood and Roland Knight was none of his business. But something about Knight was bothering the hell out of him, and he wanted to know what it was.

“Miss Springwood and I were in the gymnasium this morning and he tried accosting her again. She sent him on his way, but I have the feeling he isn’t going to stop,” he settled on explaining.

“So you want to help her out by giving her something to bring to the authorities,” Stuff finished for him. Damn Stuff and her unnatural ability to figure things out!

Bog glared at her, and Stuff threw up her hands defensively. “Right! I know, not interested, I get it,” she said quickly.

“I can tell you this much, though,” she continued. “I remember reading in the papers before we left New York a few weeks ago that there is a rumor circulating that he’s deep in financial trouble.”

“Well, that would certainly explain why he’s so eager to have Miss Springwood marry him,” Bog said.

“What I don’t understand, though, is why he’s on the ship at all. The last word anyone heard of him was that he was supposed to have returned to his home in Houston to try and sort the trouble out,” Stuff said.

“That’s what I’d like you and Brutus to try and figure out. As a matter of fact, get another message to the wireless room. Maybe my mother and Aunt Aura can find something,” Bog said. “But try to have something as soon as possible. We’re having dinner with the Springwood sisters and their escort tomorrow night.” Stuff’s eyebrows went up slightly at this, but she wisely chose to not say anything. She wouldn’t have had the chance anyway, because just then Thang returned.

“Well, sir, your messages are all in, but the wireless room is saying they’re backed up with other outgoing messages, so it might be a day or two before they get out,” he reported as he took a seat in a chair. Bog rolled his eyes and grunted in irritation.

“Huh. Well, with as fast as they’re claiming this ship is, we’ll probably get to New York before any of our messages get there,” Stuff commented.

“I don’t know about fast,” Thang said. “I heard one of the wireless operators telling a crew member about ice on the ship’s course, so we might have to slow down.”

“So either we beat our messages there or we’re late getting home because of ice. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Stuff said sarcastically.

“Aw, come on, I doubt they’ll stop altogether. After all, this ship can’t sink,” Thang said.

Bog pinched the bridge of his nose between a thumb and forefinger and squeezed his eyes shut. The two of them were going to start arguing again if he didn’t put a stop to it now. In fact, Stuff was opening her mouth with a response right at that second.

“Thang, this ship is just as capable of sinking as all the other ones are,” Bog snapped, cutting off Stuff’s retort. “And you two have officially exhausted this subject. Don’t bring it up again.”

“Right, sir.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“Good.” Bog managed to steer the two of them back towards work related matters and away from pointless arguing. He only wished it were actually distracting him from his thoughts of sword-wielding women with fiery golden eyes.  


	4. Chapter 4

April 12, 1912

 _Titanic_ had left Ireland the day before and was now making her way through the Atlantic Ocean towards New York City. Since the morning before, Marianne had done her best to avoid looking at said ocean for too long. She had thought it would help her get her mind back under control and not straying to Broderic King again, but that had only worked for so long. Namely, until she, Dawn, and Sunny were seated around a table at the Café Parisian and Dawn started teasing her again.

To her credit, she had forced all thoughts of tall blue-eyed attractive ( _no no no no no she did not find him attractive damn it she was not going down this road uh-uh no way in Hell_ ) Scotsmen aside long enough to try to talk to one of the Masters-At-Arms. Unfortunately, the ship was docked in Queenstown and both men were busy with the incoming passengers and cargo. She didn’t get to speak with one of them until after the ship departed, and by then having Roland taken off the ship was no longer an option. What he had been able to do, however, was go and warn Roland to stay away from Marianne, Dawn, and Sunny.  He had also advised Marianne that if Roland gave her any more trouble, to let him know and he’d have a crewman posted to watch him. He then advised Marianne that she might want to see about pressing charges against him once they reached New York. Marianne was a little irritated with herself that she hadn’t gone to see them sooner, but at least there was a chance Roland would leave her alone now. If nothing else, he hadn’t tried to talk to her again since the day before. She could only hope that it would remain that way.

With that settled, she refused to give Roland a second thought. This, however, coupled with Dawn’s teasing, opened the door for Broderic King—Bog, he had asked her to call him Bog—to slip to the forefront of her mind and stay there. She hadn’t seen him around the ship since the morning before. But then he had said he had some things relating to his work that he had to see to, so she concluded that he simply hadn’t left his stateroom.

She had, however, seen his travel companions around the ship. One of them, the shorter man with the light-brown hair and glasses, was in a hurry to get somewhere, but he had offered her an enthusiastic smile and a wave of greeting. And she’d seen the woman sitting at a table in the café the day before deep in a conversation with another group of passengers. Marianne didn’t think the woman had noticed her at all, and she thought it would be rude to interrupt, so she never tried to talk to her. Whatever was going on was likely related to Bog’s company and therefore none of her concern.

Then after another near-sleepless night, Marianne went upstairs to the gymnasium that morning with her fencing foil. Bog hadn’t appeared that morning, but the bigger man from his group (Brutus, if she recalled correctly) had, and greeted her before starting his own workout. The two of them didn’t speak to one another otherwise. She had left the gymnasium as soon as she was finished.

As she was walking back to her stateroom, though, she was reminded of her spar with Bog the morning before. He had handled his foil like an expert, and his overall fighting style made it look more like he was dancing. She remembered her fencing instructor once saying that the most well-practiced of fighters could make it look easy, when in reality it took a lot of time and work to make it look that way. So clearly Bog had a lot of experience, especially if he could fight with an injured hand on top of all of that. (And Marianne had noticed his bruised knuckles that morning. It looked like a very recent injury, and she had the feeling they had something to do with his rescue of Dawn the night before.) Marianne had found herself wondering what it would be like to fight Bog with an actual sword. Or even in hand-to-hand combat.

Now _there_ was a thought. But then she immediately called a halt to that train of thought before it could go any further.

Then, before she knew it, it was time for dinner. Dawn had tried to talk her into changing into one of her nicer evening gowns, but Marianne had refused. Mr. King was only paying her something he owed her, she reminded Dawn. There was no need for formality. Dawn, however, could wear whatever she pleased. Dawn would have stood there arguing about it for the rest of the evening if Marianne hadn’t reminded her that if she was going to change, she needed to do it now, because they didn’t have all night. Dawn immediately scurried off to her room to change.

Marianne had actually entertained the idea for a few seconds, though. What would be the harm in looking nice tonight? She shook the thought off, though. Even at home, she rarely dressed up for dinner. And then it was only if she was attending some kind of social function where her father needed for her to make a good impression on his behalf. Otherwise she would just wear what she had been wearing, just like she was going to do now. Besides, this was just a friendly dinner, she reminded herself. That still didn’t stop her from giving herself a once-over in her mirror, though.  But then she thought it over again. What would be the harm?

About twenty minutes later, Marianne emerged from her room in a much nicer dress than the one she had been wearing. It wasn’t the height of fashion by any means, and it certainly wasn’t nearly as elegant as what some of the other women would be wearing, but it would serve its purpose.  Dawn had let Sunny in, and he had taken about the same level of care with his appearance as Marianne had. Dawn, however, had pinned her hair up in an elegant twist and dressed in one of her better evening gowns. When they saw Marianne, Sunny’s eyes had widened fractionally and he’d blinked at her, while Dawn fixed her with a smug smile.

Now they were on their way downstairs to the dining hall, and for some reason Marianne was nervous.

“You okay, Marianne?” Sunny asked. Dawn, thank God, had skipped a few feet ahead of them in her excitement. Otherwise Marianne knew Dawn would start teasing her again.

“Fine! I’m completely fine! Why do you ask?” Marianne answered, silently cursing the fact that her voice had come out rather high-pitched.

“You just seem a bit nervous,” Sunny pointed out, and bless him for saying it quietly.

Marianne drew in a breath and let it out slowly, then gave Sunny a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, really.”

Sunny arched an eyebrow at her, but didn’t press the issue. They had descended the Grand Staircase and were nearly to D Deck. Dawn was at the landing and had turned around to wait on them, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. She was also biting her bottom lip and trying not to smile. Marianne couldn’t see what it was that had her so excited until she herself descended that flight of stairs.

Bog was waiting outside the entrance to the dining hall, along with Brutus. The two of them had been speaking in hushed tones to one another, which ended as soon as Brutus spotted Marianne, Dawn, and Sunny at the top of the stairs. And Bog, it seemed, had taken the same mind with his appearance tonight as she had with hers. It was by no means formal, but it was nicer than anything she had seen him in yet. Marianne vaguely wondered what he would look like in a fully formal suit and could feel blood rising to her cheeks at the thought.

Right then, Bog followed Brutus’s line of sight and locked eyes with Marianne. She was not imagining the slightly awe-struck look on his face.

Brutus leaned in towards Bog, fighting back a bemused smile, and said something else to him. Bog gave him a quick glance before nodding and looking back over at Marianne. Brutus then turned and went into the dining hall. Next to her, Dawn hooked her arm around Sunny’s and all but dragged him down the rest of the stairs towards Bog. Marianne followed at a slower pace.

Bog tore his eyes away from Marianne when Dawn and Sunny reached him.

“Miss Springwood!” Bog said, extending a hand in greeting. But Dawn was having none of that. She grabbed his hand and nearly threw him off-balance when she yanked him down into a hug.

“Now I don’t remember a lot about the other night, but I do believe I told you to call me Dawn, Boggy,” she said. Bog’s eyes widened in something akin to horror and Sunny pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and groaned.

“Sorry, Mr. King. I honestly tried to convince her she was dreaming about that,” Sunny told him.

Marianne snorted out a giggle and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Boggy?” she said through her fingers. Dawn finally released Bog, who had started blushing. Marianne had to work to fight back her laughter. She was rather impressed with herself that she managed to get herself under control so quickly. Then she decided that she had better rescue Bog from her sister before she embarrassed him any further.

“I’m sorry about that,” Marianne said. “Dawn has a habit of trying to assign nicknames to someone when she decides she likes them.”

“It’s no problem, but ‘Bog’ kind of already _is_ a nickname,” Bog explained.

“Really?” Dawn asked, slightly disappointed that someone had beaten her to a nickname for him already.

“Yeah, my mother had trouble pronouncing the name ‘Broderic’ when I was a boy, and before long she had everyone calling me Bog because of it,” he said.

“I think I’d like to meet your mother,” Dawn said suddenly, snapping rapidly out of her disappointment. The look that crossed Bog’s face then highly suggested that he would like the exact opposite of that.

“Thank you for waiting for us out here. You didn’t have to do that,” Marianne said in another effort to rescue Bog from the discomfort Dawn was inflicting on him.

“It’s nothing, really. My mother would never let me hear the end of it if she ever heard I invited a lady to dinner and didn’t act like a proper gentleman and escort her inside,” he said. Marianne found herself actually biting her lip and giggling, which caused Bog to blush again. Only this time there was no discomfort to it.

“Okay, now I _have_ to meet your mother,” Dawn said, breaking Bog and Marianne’s attention away from one another. “But for right now, I’m starving.” Then she turned and hooked her arm around Sunny’s again and looked back at Bog and Marianne expectantly.

Bog snorted in amusement and wordlessly offered his arm to Marianne, who also wordlessly took it. Bog then led them into the dining hall towards the table where his travelling companions were already sitting.

 

Fifteen minutes later, everyone was seated around a table, introductions had been made, and dinner had been ordered. Now everyone was sipping wine and chatting while waiting.

“So, Miss Marianne,” Stuff said, her face lit up with interest, “BK and Brutus told us about how you handled that blond idiot in the gymnasium the other morning.”

“Yeah, it’s not every day you meet a woman who can throw a grown man across a room like that,” Brutus added. Laughter erupted around the table.

“Marianne, you didn’t tell us you threw him across the room!” Sunny managed through his laughter. “Now I wish I had been there!” More laughter broke out.

“I didn’t ‘throw him across the room’,” Marianne said defensively as soon as she sobered up. “I only body-slammed him over a piece of equipment, is all.”

“Yeah, right after you whipped my arse at fencing,” Bog said, sobering up from his own fit of laughter.

“Oh, give yourself some credit. It was almost a draw,” Marianne corrected.

“It was, I was there,” Brutus confirmed.

“Either way though,” Bog said, “Just how does such a well-bred lady learn to fight like that?”

Marianne glanced at Bog. He seemed to have been burning with curiosity about it since the last time they had seen one another. Then she glanced over to where Dawn and Sunny sat on her other side. They were glancing from her to one another as if trying to silently discuss just how much information they should share. Marianne knew in the end it would be up to her, and she decided that there was no need for all of the details.  At least not right now, and certainly not here.

Marianne drew in a deep breath through her nose. “Well,” she started, “I took up fencing after I ended my engagement with Roland. Let’s just say I had a lot of anger to work out, and a sport like that just seemed like a more productive way of doing it.”

Everyone in Bog’s group blinked at her in astonishment. “Wait, but didn’t you end your engagement only a year ago?” Stuff asked incredulously.

Marianne nodded a confirmation. “It wasn’t long after that that I started looking for a fencing instructor. Unfortunately, that took far longer than I would have liked.”

“Yeah, none of them wanted to teach a _girl_ ,” Dawn snorted over her wine glass. Stuff rolled her eyes and nodded in understanding. 

“Surprisingly, my father finally helped me find one,” Marianne continued. “That was about eight or nine months ago now. He taught me everything he knew.”

Bog’s, Brutus’s, and Thang’s jaws had all dropped by this point.

 Brutus was the first one of them to shake off his shock. “So in less than nine months you learned enough about fencing to be able to take _him_ on?” he asked, indicating Bog. Marianne nodded again, this time with a proud smile.

“I’ve been practicing since I was a child! That’s incredible,” Bog said. Marianne’s cheeks colored slightly at the complement and smiled.

“What about the hand-to-hand fighting, though?” Brutus asked.

“That was also my fencing instructor,” Marianne answered. “He has a daughter my age and was a firm believer in a woman being able to defend herself. After all, he once told me that there wouldn’t always be a man around to pull me out of trouble, and that even if there were a man around, I shouldn’t necessarily rely on him to help me. I suppose I have Roland to thank for helping me learn how true that is.”

“Especially since he doesn’t seem to have any intention of leaving you alone,” Sunny said.

“Exactly,” Marianne said in agreement. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he went to our father as soon as we got to New York and wove some crazy story about how I attacked him unprovoked.”

Bog looked like he was about to say something, but right then their food arrived. Any further conversation was halted as the stewards set plates in front of everyone.

“But surely your father wouldn’t believe something like that?” Stuff asked as soon as the stewards were gone. “Especially since so many people saw what actually happened.”

“My father can be a bit naïve where anyone is concerned, it doesn’t matter who it is,” Marianne said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one who somehow let it slip to Roland about where we were.”

“I don’t think Daddy would have done that, though,” Dawn said.

“Yeah,” Sunny said, “Remember, after—“ here he caught himself and cleared his throat before continuing, “—well, what happened, he didn’t want anything to do with Roland anymore. He wouldn’t even let him anywhere near your property.”

“Well, someone told him. I just wish I knew who,” Marianne said. That mystery alone was going to give her a headache, she just knew it.

“Regardless of all of that,” Bog said, “If he does try anything, you have four people here who can tell him what actually happened.”

Marianne blinked at him and could feel her lips pulling up in a grateful smile. “Thank you, but I’m really hoping it won’t come to that. There’s still a good chance my father will see through it all and it won’t even be necessary.”

Bog nodded his understanding. “The offer is there, though.”

“In the meantime, we can help you find out who told him where to find you,” Stuff said.

Marianne looked over at Stuff. “Really? How?”

The corner of Bog’s mouth cocked up in a smile. “Stuff and Brutus are exceptionally good at finding information,” he said by way of explanation. Then he flushed slightly. “I, ah, also took the liberty of having them find out just why it is that he’s after you.”

It was Marianne’s turn to stare at him in astonishment. Her jaw worked soundlessly for a moment before she finally found her voice. “I—th—thank you,” she managed.

Bog’s cheeks turned a shade darker. “It was no problem,” he said.

“I mean it,” Marianne insisted. “I’m going to see about pressing charges when we get to New York, I need everything I can get.”

“Yeah, but,” Dawn cut in, “what could you have possibly found out that we don’t already know?”

“For starters, how about the fact that he’s in one of the second-class cabins on E Deck?” Stuff said. Marianne, Dawn, and Sunny all looked up at her.

“Woah,” Sunny murmured.

“No, we didn’t know that,” Dawn said.

“At least he’s not near us,” Marianne said, suddenly feeling like a weight was lifting off of her. Sunny’s face twisted in disgust.

“Yeah, but he is near me,” he said.

“Don’t worry, the Master-At-Arms should have warned him to leave us all alone by now,” Marianne told him.

“There is that, but I still don’t like it,” Sunny said.

“In any case,” Marianne said, cutting off any further complaining from Sunny, “it makes sense. We had a feeling he was having problems with money.”

“’Problems with money’ would be an understatement,” Brutus said. “Try ‘almost flat broke.’”

Marianne, Dawn, and Sunny stared in shock again. “Wow, you two _are_ good,” Dawn said.

“Yeah, that explains his desperation,” Marianne said.

“So he really is that desperate, then?” Bog asked.

“He must be. Marianne is gonna inherit _a lot_ of money if something happens to our father,” Dawn said.

“And he must be nearly out of money if he went so far as to follow me all the way around the world and get on the same ship I was taking,” Marianne said.

“Strapped for money enough that he’s not only in second-class, but he’s traveling alone as well,” Stuff said.

“Yeah, no maid, no valet, nothing,” Brutus added.

Marianne nodded and chewed on her lip for a moment. “What about the rumors about him going back to Houston?”

“There were several about that, actually,” Stuff said. “Several people I talked to swore that was what he did, but most of them had also heard that he’d found out he had gotten some girl pregnant right around the time he ‘disappeared.’”

Marianne rolled her eyes. “That would be just like him. And somehow it makes more sense.”

“Yeah. If he just went into hiding, then he would have still been nearby when he heard we left America,” Sunny reasoned out.

“And if he could somehow talk you into marrying him before we came home, then he wouldn’t have to claim any responsibility for an illegitimate child,” Dawn finished.

Marianne squeezed her eyes shut and let out an irritated growl. “The only mystery left then is what in his right mind would make him think I’d want him back at all.”

“Unfortunately, Roland Knight is the only one who can answer that,” Brutus said.

“But we may even have an answer to that once we reach New York,” Thang spoke up for the first time.

Marianne opened her eyes to glance between Bog and Thang. “I also had a message sent to my mother and aunt,” Bog answered her unspoken question. “My aunt Aura knows a lot of people and likes to read the gossip columns.”

Marianne stared at him in both wonder and gratefulness. This man barely knew her, and yet had already done so much to help her without even needing to be asked. She had to restrain herself from leaping over to him and throwing her arms around him.

“Why that long, though?” Dawn asked, breaking Marianne out of her thoughts.

“Well, from what I’m told, there’s a backlog in the wireless room. I put the message in yesterday, but I found out it only got sent out today,” Thang explained.

“Ah,” Dawn said. “I had a message sent to our father. It probably went out today, too.” And then she, Sunny, and Thang started chatting about the wonders of the Marconi radio, and Marianne tuned it out after that.

She turned to Bog, a grateful smile on her face. “Thank you, really. You didn’t have to do all of that.”

A blush rose to his cheeks again. “I-it was n-no problem,” he stammered. Marianne wanted to giggle. He was rather adorable when he was flustered. She could see Stuff glancing between the two of them out of the corner of her eye, a smile on her face.

 

Dinner seemed to end all too quickly for Marianne’s liking. When it ended, they all left the dining hall together and Sunny went ahead back to his room while everyone else went upstairs to their staterooms. Bog’s group walked with them until they neared their own stateroom, and then headed off to bed. Bog walked the rest of the way with Dawn and Marianne back to theirs. As soon as they reached it, Dawn bid Bog good night (with another hug that he reluctantly and awkwardly returned) and went ahead inside.

“I don’t think I can thank you enough for your help,” Marianne said, turning to Bog. His cheeks darkened slightly again, but this time he smiled.

“It really is no problem,” he said. “And I meant what I said earlier. I’ll go with you to talk to your father if Knight insists on causing trouble for you.”

“Well, it’s like I said, I’m going to see about pressing charges once we get home. There has to be a law against what he’s doing, and I can’t throw him over exercise equipment forever,” she said. Bog chuckled at this. God, he had a nice smile…

“Well, you could always throw him overboard, like you threatened to do,” Bog joked. Marianne laughed.

“It’s tempting, but then I’d be the only suspect, and I am _not_ going to jail because of him.”

“Good point,” Bog conceded. Then he scratched at the back of his neck thoughtfully. “So, umm, do you have any plans for tomorrow evening?” He asked it seemingly out of nowhere, and his face flushed bright red as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Marianne could feel her own face warming up and her jaw dropped.

“Well, i-it’s just, I’ve heard good things about the restaurant, a-and I was just wondering i-if you’d like to—and if you don’t want to, I understand!—but maybe—you and me—just the two of us…” he raked a hand through his hair and looked away from her, blushing furiously.

Marianne’s own face felt equally hot. “W-well, I—I, um—“ but she was cut off when Dawn suddenly popped back out of the door.

“Of course she’ll have dinner with you, Boggy! Oh, and by the way, here is your jacket back,” she said, thrusting the garment at him and just as quickly as she had appeared, she retreated back into the room.

Marianne didn’t even have the chance to yell at her sister. She and Bog both blinked at the door in shock for a moment. It took another for Marianne to finally shake it off and find her voice again.

“Dinner would be lovely, thank you,” she said, turning back to Bog. He turned back to her, and it took him a second to register what she had said. Then a grin broke out across his face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles the way he had the day before. A flash of heat surged through her at the contact. “Good night, Marianne.”

“Good night, Bog,” she said, then he turned and headed for his own stateroom as she went into hers.

As soon as Marianne had the door shut behind her, it occurred to her that she owed Dawn a good yelling at for obviously eavesdropping on her and Bog. Yet Dawn had retreated to her room for the night. It would have to wait until the next morning, then.

But then it occurred to Marianne that she wasn’t nearly as irritated with Dawn over what she did as she probably should have been. She had intended to accept Bog’s invitation, anyway. As soon as she could stop gaping like a fool and actually speak, that is. Marianne smiled to herself. She really did want to see Bog again.

Okay, so maybe she wouldn’t yell at Dawn. Probably fuss at her a bit. Marianne headed to bed, still smiling.  


	5. Chapter 5

April 13, 1912

Bog could feel the muscles in his arms and legs beginning to burn as he cut through the water. He’d woken up early that morning and had a need for another workout. Sure, he was finally starting to get some proper sleep again, but Marianne was still there in his dreams, just like she was there in his waking thoughts when he wasn’t making himself focus on something else. He could have gone to the gymnasium again with his fencing foil, but he had wanted to try out _Titanic’s_ swimming pool almost since he had boarded. Now he finally had the chance to do that.

Swimming had always been something of a form of meditation for Bog, something he was feeling sorely in need of right now. The part of his brain that couldn’t stop thinking of Marianne had reasoned that if he had gone upstairs to the gymnasium, there was a chance he would get to see her and maybe even challenge her to another spar. The rest of his brain that was trying to remain rational argued that that was part of the reason why they should go to the pool instead. Besides, he’d get to see Marianne later that evening, anyway.

So here he was working on his freestyle stroke and trying to marshal his thoughts into some semblance of order, though he supposed he might have had better luck trying to herd cats. As it was, all he had accomplished was managing to remember to not inhale the water.

Finally, his hand met the pool’s wall, and he stopped for a few minutes to catch his breath. Maybe he should go see the ship’s doctor, because there was obviously something wrong with him if one woman had taken over his mind like this. Especially one like Marianne Springwood, who had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t need a man to take care of her. No, a woman like her didn’t need a man at all. Just like he had decided a long time ago that he didn’t need a woman.

He didn’t need a woman, but he was finding more and more since the first time he had laid eyes on Marianne that maybe, just maybe, he was starting to want one.

No. No no no. Not for him. That was a road that only led to pain and suffering, and he had been down it once. He wasn’t keen to go down it again.

It seemed like she had been there, too. From what he had gathered the night before, there was a bit more going on between Marianne and Roland Knight than what it seemed she or her sister or their escort were willing to talk about. It had been common knowledge that they had been engaged to be married, and it had also been common knowledge that she called it off at almost the last minute. Bog knew a lot of people were wondering what made Marianne do it, and he had to admit he was curious as well. But it was also none of his business, and he wouldn’t push her to tell him.

This brought his thoughts to Roland Knight. Something about the man bothered the ever-living hell out of Bog, and maybe that was why he was so curious to know what had happened between him and Marianne. He knew Knight was determined to marry Marianne for her money. And it wasn’t uncommon for marriages to be based exclusively on that. However, most people were honest about their intentions from the start. They didn’t try to cover it up with false claims of love the way Knight was doing with Marianne, and they most certainly didn’t try to press the issue by following someone who obviously didn’t want them half-way around the world and getting on the same ship to try and corner them.

Perhaps that’s what it was that had Bog on edge where Roland Knight was concerned. Knight’s tactics were well into the territory of stalking, which seemed to confirm his desperation. And desperation could equal dangerousness. Bog knew he wouldn’t need to tell Marianne to be careful around Knight. She was already planning on going to the authorities, anyway. Even though he knew she could take care of herself, he still couldn’t help but feel protective of her.

With an irritated snarl, Bog pushed off the edge of the pool, flipped around, and swam for the other end as hard as he could. He just wished he could figure out _where_ that protectiveness was coming from.

 

“Ugh, _jeez_ , Marianne, I _still_ can’t believe you did this to your hair! I can’t _do_ anything with it!” Dawn lamented for about the thousandth time that evening, and quite possibly for about the billionth time since the day they had arrived in Rome and Marianne had walked into the first beauty parlor they had come across and had them hack her hair off at the nape of her neck. She had had such pretty hair, too. Dawn still mourned its loss, and she knew their father would make a fuss about it as soon as he saw it.

Now she had Marianne sitting in front of the vanity in her room and was trying to do…something…with Marianne’s hair. Marianne was going to meet Bog soon for dinner, and Dawn was beyond excited for her. She had flat refused to let Marianne leave their stateroom in anything less than one of her nice evening gowns, even going so far as to threaten to hide the rest of her clothes from her. Marianne had reluctantly agreed, and then Dawn spent the better part of her day digging through Marianne’s luggage for the perfect dress.

She had decided on a deep purple satin dress with jet beads embroidered into the collar, hem, and sleeves, which Marianne was now wearing. A matching pair of shoes were on her feet, and Dawn had tried to talk her into a pair of elbow-length gloves, but Marianne remained firm on not wearing them. Now all that was left to figure out was what to do with her hair. With it being as short as it was, anything that pulled it up or back was out of the question.

Marianne rolled her eyes at Dawn in the mirror. “Dawn, really. He isn’t going to care what it looks like.”

“She’s right, Dawn,” Sunny said from where he stood propped against the door frame with his arms folded over his chest, watching them. “If he hasn’t said anything about it before, why would he say something now?”

“Thank you!” Marianne said to him.

Dawn glared at them both. “Well, you’re still not leaving until something’s done with your hair.”

“That’s nice, he’s going to think I stood him up,” Marianne shot back. “And here I thought you _wanted_ me to have dinner with him.”

Dawn opened her mouth and closed it again. She had nothing to say to that, and it was starting to look like she would have to let Marianne go without it. In fact, it was starting to look like Marianne would bolt for the door any second now. She had to think of something, and fast.

Then her eyes fell on a silver hair comb inset with amethysts. It was in cast into the shape of a butterfly. Maybe it would be best to just stay simple, then. That was more Marianne’s style, anyway. Dawn grabbed the comb, swept some of Marianne’s hair away from her face with it, and tucked it into her hair just behind her left ear.

“There!” she said, giving a self-satisfied smile. Marianne examined it in the mirror and then her own face broke out into a grin.

“See? You _can_ do something with short hair once you stop complaining about it,” Marianne told her. Then she stood up to give herself one final examination in the mirror. Dawn didn’t miss how Marianne suddenly seemed nervous, despite the fact that she was still trying to hide it.

Dawn leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Relax, it’s just dinner. It’s not like you’re marrying him or anything.”

Marianne shot her a look at that, but didn’t respond to it. Then she let out a breath. “Alright, then. I’m off. Don’t wait up for me.” With that, she hurried past Sunny and was out the door. Dawn hoped Marianne got her nerves under control before she saw Bog. The A La Carte Restaurant was on the same deck as their staterooms, so she didn’t have far to walk.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” Sunny asked as soon as the door was shut behind Marianne, breaking Dawn out of her thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, just dinner in the dining hall tonight,” Dawn answered.

Sunny blinked at her in surprise. “You mean no trying to get into parts of the ship you don’t belong in now that Marianne isn’t watching?”

“I swear, men can be so blind!” Dawn huffed. “Don’t you see what’s happening here? Marianne has a _serious_ crush on Boggy! This is _much_ bigger than any of that!”

“Actually, I _didn’t_ miss that, but I _had_ thought Marianne swore off of romance after what Roland put her through,” Sunny said.

Dawn giggled. “Looks like we were wrong, then. It does have a way of sneaking up on you, after all.” Sunny only smiled in agreement. “Now come on, I’m starving!” Sunny’s smile widened, and he offered her his arm. Dawn took it and the two of them left the stateroom and headed downstairs to the dining hall.

 

Marianne had to mentally restrain herself from fisting her hands in the skirt of her dress. She was actually grateful to Dawn for helping her to get dressed. Had Marianne been left to her own devices, she would have made herself crazy trying to decide what to wear, and then given up and just gone in what she had been wearing. Which she was certain Bog wouldn’t have minded, but she actually _had_ wanted to look nice for him tonight. That thought had actually shocked the hell out of her when she’d had it earlier that day. When was the last time she wanted to look nice for someone simply because she wanted to, and not because she was obligated to?

She had made an attempt that morning to fuss at Dawn for accepting the dinner invitation for her, but it had been half-hearted at best, and Dawn only responded with a cheeky grin and a “You’re welcome!” After lunch that day Dawn had launched herself at Marianne’s clothes and started going through them all. Marianne would never admit to her that the threats to hide the rest of her clothes hadn’t been necessary.

All too soon, she reached the restaurant. And there waiting near the entrance like he had done the night before, was Bog, outfitted in his own formal wear of a black suit with a white waistcoat. Marianne had a few seconds to appreciate how he looked in the suit before he spotted her. When he did, his eyes widened slightly and his lips parted. Then he smiled as she approached him.

Bog swept up her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, and there was that increasingly-familiar flash of heat again.

“Good evening, Marianne,” he said. Was it her imagination, or did his accent sound slightly thicker? Either way, it sent another flash of heat surging through her veins.

“Good evening, Bog,” she responded, smiling, and was she biting her lip? Why was she biting her lip?

“You look beautiful,” he said, and Marianne could feel her face warming up.

“Th-thank you,” she stammered out, and _Jesus why was she stammering?!_

Bog didn’t give any indication that he had noticed. “Shall we?” he asked, offering her his arm. Marianne smiled again and took it, letting him lead her into the restaurant.

 

Roland silently fumed as he picked at his dinner. Why would Marianne go and send the Master-At-Arms after him like that? All he’d wanted to do was talk! If she would just stop being so bull-headed for a few minutes, maybe he could explain his side of things to her. After all, what was the harm in him having a bit of fun on the side? A lot of men did it.

Maybe it had to do with her silly notions of romance. Wasn’t going after the woman you wanted who was travelling a long distance supposed to be some grand romantic gesture? At least, that was what he had heard.

But then Marianne had to go and pull that stunt in the dining hall, embarrassing him in front of everyone. Then she had to go and do it again in the gymnasium. And where had she learned a move like that, anyway? She was lucky she didn’t break any of his bones. As it was, it would take a while for the bruises on his chest to heal. As soon as he could convince her to marry him, he’d make damn sure she never did anything like that to him again.

Oh, and marry her he would. That was happening whether she wanted to or not. She was worth an awful lot of money, and damn if she wasn’t the quickest way to that money. All he had to do was convince her that it would be worth her while to marry him. Which would be so much easier to do if she would just calm down and talk to him.

And that should have been the way it happened. But then she went and befriended that tall, ugly Scotsman with the nearly-equally tall and over-muscled bodyguard.

Then, to add insult to injury, she walked into the A La Carte Restaurant _on his arm_ a little while ago.

Roland had glared at them as they walked by and were seated on the other side of the restaurant. But it wouldn’t do to let anyone see that, so he had to force his expression back into a mask of calm neutrality. Or at least as much of one as he could manage.

He couldn’t help casting narrowed-eyed glances over at their table, though. She had actually dressed up tonight. She had never willingly dressed up for him, he’d always had to beg, cajole, and then finally guilt-trip her into dressing up whenever he wanted to see her in something nice.

Then there were her table manners. Marianne had never liked sitting up straight all the time like women were supposed to do, just like now. She was leaned forward with her elbows on the table, her chin propped in one hand. _He_ was also leaning forward, except his arms were folded in front of him as the two of them talked.

And then there was the over-all way she was looking at him. Something about the way her golden-brown eyes had darkened slightly, something about how her cheeks were slightly flushed, something in the way she was smiling at _him_. Roland had a vague memory of Marianne looking at him that way once, a long time ago. Well before she declared their engagement over and their wedding cancelled. That had been the look that had told Roland that she was his. And _he_ was looking at her the same way.

That had been what _really_ chapped his ass. If she was falling for someone else, it would make getting her to take him back virtually impossible.

But not _completely_ impossible. Because nothing was _completely_ impossible. He’d just have to think of something else, that was all. And he did have something in mind already. His only real problem was how to make this happen before the ship reached New York.

 

Marianne had been in the middle of telling Bog about the bit of the Swiss Alps she, Dawn, and Sunny had been able to see when something caught at the corner of her eye and made her pull up short. When she glanced over at what it was, her face twisted in indignation.

What the hell was Roland doing in here?!

She could feel her hand tightening around her fork, and could only barely hear Bog asking her what was wrong around the sudden buzzing in her ears. Marianne would very well have gotten up to go yell at him had the sudden presence of Bog’s hand over hers not brought her down from her rising temper.

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, it’s not worth it,” he said, cutting through the fog of her anger.

Marianne drew in a calming breath and released it slowly. “What is he even doing in here, anyway?” she snarled.

“Probably paid off the stewards to let him in,” Bog suggested.

This had Marianne snorting out a giggle. She couldn’t imagine what he was paying them off with, but then if he could come up with the money to follow her, then he probably had enough left to get into parts of the ship he shouldn’t have been able to get into.

“Besides, he _is_ still a passenger on this ship. They can’t make him stay in his cabin unless he actually tries something,” Bog continued. 

Marianne inhaled again. “You’re right. As much as I wish he would, you’re right. I just don’t like the feeling I’m getting about this, though.”

“Neither do I, but if he’s going to do anything, let him make the first move,” Bog said. Another good point. This finally calmed Marianne down. She was having a good time, and she was _not_ going to let Roland ruin it with his presence.

She released another breath and smiled. “Now where was I?”

 

The rest of dinner had gone without any incident. Roland had gotten up and left about ten minutes after Marianne had spotted him, and she didn’t know whether she should be grateful or suspicious that he hadn’t tried to make another scene. Then again, maybe he never even saw her and Bog. She was hoping that was the case. When he had left, Marianne promptly put him out of her mind.

She and Bog were now walking off their dinner on the promenade on A Deck. They had been up here for a little while now, and most of the people who had also been on the deck were now drifting below decks and to their rooms for the night. Neither Bog nor Marianne, however, seemed to be in a hurry to leave. Truth be told, Marianne didn’t want the evening to end.

 They were now stopped by one of the many open windows separating the deck from the ocean, and Bog had just finished telling Marianne about his mother and aunt back in New York. His stories about them had Marianne in fits of laughter.

“I think Dawn’s right, I think I would like to meet your mother too!” Marianne said when she sobered up from a bout of laughing. The same horrified look that had crossed Bog’s face the night before was back.

Marianne was suddenly curious. “What’s wrong?”

Bog winced. “It’s just…if you and your sister are serious about meeting my mother, I advise you to prepare yourselves,” he said.

“For?” Marianne prompted.

Bog let out an aggravated huff. “She’ll try to play matchmaker. She’s determined to see me married, and as soon as she finds out that I even _know_ the two of you, she’ll be after me to start courting one of you.”

“Ah,” Marianne said. Then her curiosity deepened. “So, then…how is it that a man like you who is the very definition of what a gentleman should be not already married?”

“Uh!—Umm..” Bog stuttered and cleared his throat, his cheeks turning red. He raked a hand through is hair.

Marianne mentally cursed herself and felt her own face flushing. “I—I’m sorry! You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to,” she said quickly.

“No! No, it’s fine,” he reassured her just as quickly. Then his expression shifted from discomfort to morose, and he turned to gaze out at the night-darkened ocean. “There was someone, once. A few years ago. I had thought we were so happy together, but then on the day I was going to ask her to marry me, she announced that she was marrying someone else.”

“I’m so sorry,” Marianne said.

Bog gave a small smile at that, then went on. “I don’t blame her, though. The man she married was much better looking than I am.”

Marianne narrowed her eyes in confusion. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Bog glanced over at her, equally confused. “Marianne, you have to have noticed that I don’t exactly turn a lot of heads. No one wants to marry someone who looks like me.”

Marianne only stared back at him, still confused. “But there’s nothing wrong with the way you look,” she murmured.

Bog’s gaze snapped back up to hers at that and his cheeks darkened again, and it was Marianne’s turn to avert her face in embarrassment.

It took her a moment to recover from that. “In any case, I understand exactly what a broken heart feels like,” she said, trying to dispel the sudden awkwardness.

“You mean, you and--?” Bog asked, gesturing towards the interior of the ship, and it was clear who he was referring to.

“Yeah,” Marianne confirmed, glancing in the direction he motioned.

 Then she drew in a shallow breath and chewed on her lip for a second before continuing. “He cheated on me,” she said quietly. 

Bog could only stare at her in shocked disbelief.

“It was two days before the wedding, as I’m sure you’re aware,” Marianne continued, and Bog nodded his affirmation. “Well, I caught him in the act with one of the chambermaids, and _in my bed_.”

Bog’s eyes narrowed in outrage at this. “What a bastard,” he muttered.

“Yeah. So I told him right then and there that the wedding was off, and he actually tried to convince me I was being unreasonable. All men do it, he tried to say.”

Bog shook his head. “No. No, they don’t.”

Marianne gave a half-smile in response to that. “So after I told my father and Dawn what happened, Dad fired the chambermaid and told Roland to stay the hell away from me. Well, that kept him away from our house, but it didn’t keep him from waylaying me in public every chance he got. Finally, I told Dad I needed to get away for a while. He didn’t blame me, but he was insistent that I not travel alone.”

“So that was how the three of you wound up here.”

“Yeah. After I ended my engagement, I realized that it wasn’t _me_ he wanted, you know? He wanted some idealized version of the perfect woman, not someone who was so _‘different’_ or _‘unique’_. I guess in the end I just didn’t measure up.”

“There’s nothing wrong with different. I actually like that,” Bog murmured, and then seemed to realize what he had just said, because he suddenly blushed again and cleared his throat. Marianne blushed as well, but she was surprised to realize that it was more of a rush of affection for what he just told her than it was from embarrassment.

“But, I did learn something from the whole thing, though,” Marianne said after a moment. “First, always have your guard up.”

Bog smiled. “So did I,” he said. “And also—“

“—don’t trust _anyone_ ,” they said at the same time. Then they both chuckled.

“Well, I can say this for him,” Bog said. “He’s a total fool for doing that to you. No one deserves something like that.”

Marianne gave him a grateful smile. “You know, you’re the first person outside of my family to know what happened with Roland.”

“Then I suppose we’re even, because you’re the first person outside of _my_ family to know about my failed relationship,” Bog said.

“And she was a fool, too,” Marianne said. It was Bog’s turn to give her a grateful smile.

Their eyes met right then, and then all at once, something in the air seemed charged. In response to it, Marianne bit her lip and pulled a hand through her hair. However, she pulled it through the left side of her hair where her hair comb was, dislodging the comb. She let out an irritated grunt when she did.

“Here, let me,” Bog said, reaching up to readjust the hairpiece. Marianne held still and let him. When he was finished, his fingers lingered in her hair for a second longer than they probably should have.

“Thank you,” she said, meeting his eyes again. Then the two of them started to lean into one another, and her eyes started to drift shut--

\--the sound of another couple further down the promenade broke through the spell and both Bog and Marianne flinched and jerked back from one another.

“I—I—I’m sorry!” Marianne managed to stutter.

“N—no, that was—I’m—I—I was…” Bog coughed out, raking a hand through his hair again.

“We—we should probably—“ Marianne motioned half-heartedly towards the doors leading inside.

“Y-yeah! Good idea! Do you, umm…” Bog trailed off, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck and clearing his throat again, “that is, would you like me to walk you back?”

“Th-thank you, but…but I’ll be fine,” Marianne said.

“Ah, o—okay,” Bog’s shoulders slumped slightly in disappointment.

“Umm, I think…” Marianne started, and Bog looked up at her, something akin to a hopeful glint in his impossibly blue eyes. “I think it’s my turn to treat you and your people to dinner. Tomorrow night in the dining hall?”

Bog’s mouth split into a wide grin. “Yeah! Yes, okay, tomorrow night. But only if you’ll join us in the lounge afterwards.”

Marianne arched an eyebrow in interest. “For?” she prompted.

Bog smiled slyly. “Tell me, how good of a poker player are you?”

Marianne’s responding smile bordered on pure evil. “Oh, I don’t know. That depends on how attached to your money you are,” she answered sweetly.

Now Bog was smiling in amusement. “Ah, so that’s how it is, huh?”

“Let me put it this way: prepare to move into the poor house, Broderic King!”

“Oh, you’re on, Tough Girl.” With that, he took her hand, and would have kissed her on the knuckles again. But without even thinking about it, and to their mutual surprise, Marianne twisted her hand around, wrapped it around his wrist, and pulled him down low enough to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Good night, Bog,” she said, turning and heading inside before her brain could fully process what she had just done.

 

Bog was frozen to the spot as he watched Marianne depart for her stateroom. His cheek was still tingling where she’d kissed him. As soon as he couldn’t see her anymore, he turned toward the open window and drew in a deep breath of the slightly-chilled sea air. He needed something to help get his heart to stop racing. Then he realized that as long as it was because of her, he wouldn’t mind if it never did. Bog didn’t bother trying to suppress the grin that stole over his face. Then he turned and headed inside and towards his stateroom.

 

Marianne was a few doors away from her stateroom when she had to stop for a moment. Her heart had not stopped pounding since she left the promenade. She had no idea what made her do that. All she knew was that she didn’t regret it at all. Marianne suddenly felt like giggling, an extremely rare feeling for her. She was thankful that the hallway was empty due to the late hour. Marianne continued to her stateroom and her bed.

 

_~New York City, same day~_

_~Broderic King’s residence~_

Griselda King was in the middle of reading the evening paper when the butler came in.

“Telegrams, ma’am,” he announced, handing her two envelopes. Griselda’s sister Aura Plum looked up from the novel she had been engrossed in.

“Thank you,” Griselda said, laying aside her newspaper and taking the envelopes from him. The butler disappeared again as Griselda tore open the first one and read it.

“About time,” Griselda grumbled. “Bog’s finally on his way home. Took him long enough, I was starting to think he was just gonna stay in London for the rest of his life.”

Aura laughed good-naturedly. “So what’s the other one, then?”

Griselda tore it open and read it, and then had to read it again. Her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Have you heard of a Roland Knight?” Griselda asked her, handing over the message.

Aura took it and read it over. “I remember reading about him some time ago. He was supposed to marry some heiress, but she called off the wedding at the last minute and no one knows why.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure Bog’s never met him. Why could he possibly want information about someone he doesn’t know?”

“I don’t know, but I think I’m curious now,” Aura answered, laying her book aside and standing up. “I’ve got a few messages to send out, I’ll be back before dinner.”

“Alright,” Griselda called after Aura as she left the room. Griselda’s curiosity was piqued as well. Not for the first time was she grateful that her sister seemed to know half of the population of the city.

 

_~Dagda Springwood’s residence~_

“Ah, Sara, there you are!” Dagda Springwood exclaimed when he finally located his housekeeper, who was in the middle of giving directions to two of the maids.

“Is everything alright, sir?” Sara Elfman asked as the two women hurried off to complete their work. Dagda held up a telegram to her.

“I just thought you’d like to know that Sunny and the girls are underway,” he said as Sara took the message and read it for herself.

Sara smiled as she handed the message back over to Dagda. “Shall I arrange for a party for them?” she asked him.

Dagda thought it over for a moment before answering. “Why not?” he said. “but not right away, though. Let’s give them time to settle in first.”

“And time enough for me to smack that boy of mine,” Sara muttered. “Did you know I barely heard from him at all since he’s been gone?”

“Now, Sara,” Dagda said, attempting to calm down Sara’s sudden ire at her son. “I’ve probably heard from Marianne as much as you’ve heard from Sunny.”

“And yet Miss Dawn found the time to write home. I should smack the both of them,” Sara fussed.

Dagda couldn’t stop his amused chuckle at that. “I’m sure we’re likely to hear all about their trip from the three of them as soon as they come home. I’ll be in my study when dinner is ready,” he told her.

“Yes, sir,” Sara said. Dagda turned and headed back for his study, and Sara returned to her work.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know this one is short, but it did exactly what I wanted it to. Also, for those of you trying to skip over the historical notes (that I'm italicizing for those that don't want to read them), the first few paragraphs of this chapter are *not* historical notes. Enjoy!

_Bog drew in a deep breath of warm, fragrant air. This field, so familiar to him from his childhood, was nearly carpeted in flowers, save for the trees interspersed throughout. Estimating from the vibrancy of the flowers and the shade of green covering the trees, it was probably late spring to early summer. Bog wasn’t terribly concerned with it, however._

_His concern lay in the golden-eyed woman hiding somewhere in this lush glade. Marianne had wanted a rematch, only with real swords this time. How they had ended up here, so near to where he had grown up in Scotland, he had no idea. Again, it didn’t seem to matter. What mattered was Bog not giving Marianne a chance to use the element of surprise on him. Now here he was, his jacket, waistcoat, and tie stripped off, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the comforting and familiar weight of the claymore in his right hand._

_Bog scanned the field as he walked forward, his eyes and ears open to any and every sound. Then, from his left came the attack, the only sound of warning being the shifting of grass as she ran forward the split second before she swung her 14 th-century sword in a downward strike. _

_He brought the claymore up to meet her swing, expertly blocking her blade with his own, and the battle was on._

_While the two of them traded swings, thrusts, and blocks, part of his mind decided to take the time to appreciate Marianne Springwood and her own brand of feral beauty. Her shorn hair was messy and wind-torn, her eyes lit with an inner fire, and that snarky, mischievous smile that tended to do things to his insides seemed perfectly content to stay on her face. And for this particular occasion, she had dressed in a rose-red tunic, black leggings, and leather boots. Something about the outfit suited her._

_Bog could feel a grin of his own pulling at his lips and a spark of something he couldn’t put into words flared deep in his chest. The same spark seemed to come over Marianne, and her eyes suddenly darkened and something about her entire demeanor changed._

_Then, Bog wasn’t sure of which one of them was the one to do it, it might have been between them both, but their swords met at just the right angle. The force of both weapons twisting together at the cross-guards caused the both of them to let go at the same time, and both swords went flying across the field._

_Bog never saw where they landed, and didn’t care, because both he and Marianne had leapt for one another in the very next instant. And then their mouths met, and as their tongues met in a completely different sort of battle, their arms wrapped around one another as both of her legs came up to wrap around his waist._

_Before her weight could throw him off-balance, he lowered the both of them down to the grass and their hands began wandering all over one another. Before he could get very far, her ankles were behind his thighs, and then she was rolling them both over until she was straddling his hips. Bog didn’t mind this development at all, especially not when she began kissing her way down to his throat, her tongue laving over the pulse-point at the base. In the meantime, her hands were trailing a path up and down his chest and abdomen, and Bog was convinced she was leaving a trail of fire in their wake._

_He saw absolutely no reason to stop her, even though he probably should. He was partially aware that her hands were migrating lower, and this only blossomed into full awareness when her hand was suddenly between his legs, stroking over him in the most deliciously erotic way possible—_

\--so of course that would be the moment when Bog would suddenly wake up. In his bed, still on board the _Titanic_.

A glance out the window told Bog the sun was just starting to rise, and he groaned. No use in trying to go back to sleep.

Bog had half-sat up when he happened to look down at his lap while in the act of pushing the sheets off, and then flopped back down on the bed, snarling out a string of curses in both English and Gaelic. Just what in the bloody hell was wrong with him?! He could hear his mother yelling at him now. A proper gentleman didn’t have these kinds of thoughts about a lady, much less these kinds of dreams.

Not even if she was the most beautiful woman he had ever met in his life.

Bog sat up in his bed, his swearing growing more violent, when the door to his room burst open and Thang came in. Bog rapidly pulled a pillow over his lap.

“There’s a message from the New York office, sir,” Thang announced, holding up an envelope.

“Thank you,” Bog said, taking the message from Thang.

“Umm, sir?” Thang asked tentatively as Bog tore open the envelope to read his message.

“Yes?”

“Sorry, but, why do you have a pillow over your lap?”

Bog glared up at him. “Don’t worry about it!” he snapped. It was fortunate that the message was work-related. It helped to push any further inappropriate thoughts about Marianne from his mind.

For the moment, anyway.

 

_Marianne’s laughter rang out as she led Bog by the hand into the ship’s cargo hold. She couldn’t remember what the joke was, but it had Bog laughing as well. Nor could she remember whether it was her idea or his to sneak down to this part of the ship, but here they were. Did it really matter, anyway? Now she understood why Dawn enjoyed exploring every ship they traveled on so much. There was an awesome thrill to be had when one managed to gain access to some place they shouldn’t be in._

_A place, by the way, that was completely devoid of other people._

_As the two of them began exploring the room, they came upon the automobile Marianne remembered being loaded in on the first day of the voyage. She was right behind Bog as he made a beeline for it, guessing that he would want to open the hood to examine the inner workings of the vehicle. The science behind the working parts of the engine were his field of expertise, after all._

_However, when they reached the car, he stopped short, and she did too, and then their eyes met._

_And Marianne had no idea which one of them made the first move, but suddenly they had pulled one another into a very deep kiss, their tongues pushing into one another’s mouths. The next thing Marianne knew Bog had her pinned to the side of the car and she was drawing her legs up around his waist. She didn’t care that this might be highly indecent. She certainly didn’t care that their hands were everywhere on each other. She just knew she didn’t want him to stop._

_Bog’s mouth then left hers to leave a trail of fire down her jaw and the side of her neck to stop at the collar of her dress. Then one of his large, beautiful hands came up to cup one of her breasts through the bodice of her dress while the other worked its way under her skirt and along her thigh—_

\--and Marianne awoke with a hard jerk.

Now just what in the hell had possessed her mind to come up with that?! A respectable lady wasn’t supposed to have such thoughts!

But then again, since when had she ever considered herself a respectable lady? Especially since she wouldn’t have a single objection to Bog putting his hands on her like that.

Marianne surprised herself by unleashing a snort of laughter at that thought. No, she wouldn’t mind at all. God, would her father kill her if he knew what she was thinking right now…

A glance at the window told Marianne that the sun was coming up. Might as well get up and get dressed. She set about disentangling her legs from both her sheets and her nightgown.

 

April 14, 1912

It was well after dinner that evening, and their group now occupied a table in the first-class lounge on A Deck. Bog had no idea what time it was and hadn’t bothered to check his watch, and at the moment couldn’t be bothered to look around the room for a clock. The only sign he had that any time had passed was the slow emptying of the room as others decided to head for their beds. Only a couple of other tables were now in use, the people around them also deep into card games. Again, he couldn’t be bothered to pay them any attention.

Most of his attention was reserved for the small blonde fairy-princess Marianne called her sister and the fact that she was watching him back with a bright smile on her face, her chin propped in one hand while the other laid oh-so-casually over her cards. Dawn had turned out to be a surprisingly ruthless card-shark, and between the two of them, they had managed to knock everyone else out of the game. Now it was between the two of them.

Bog watched her back, his face expressionless as it had been for most of the game.

“I’ll take two,” Bog said, sliding two of his cards across the table to Thang, who traded them for two new cards. Bog picked up the cards, gave them a cursory glance, and slid them into the rest of his hand face down on the table.

“Two for me, also,” Dawn said, sliding two of her own cards to Thang. As soon as she had her new cards, she let out a delighted squeal and smiled even more brightly, if it were possible.

“Okay, final bets,” Brutus announced.

“ _And_ final hand,” Stuff added on. “It’s past my bedtime, you know.”

Dawn’s grin widened fractionally and Bog was starting to worry that she was going to pull a muscle in her face. “All in!” she said, pushing her sizable pile of chips to the center of the table without taking her eyes off of Bog.

For the first time since they started playing, Bog allowed his face to betray an emotion by arching an eyebrow. On Dawn’s other side, Sunny’s eyes widened and he started shaking his head at Bog and mouthing the word _“No!”_

He cast a brief glance to Marianne, who had also started shaking her head and was mouthing _“Fold! Fold NOW!”_ at him.

Bog looked back to Dawn, who was still grinning her impossibly wide grin at him, and made his decision.

“I’ll call it,” he said, pushing all of his chips to the center of the table. Sunny squeezed his eyes shut and suddenly looked extremely sympathetic. Marianne let out a dismayed groan and clapped her forehead into her hand.

“In that case, let’s see your hands,” Brutus prompted.

“Ladies first,” Bog said to Dawn.

“Oh, no, Boggy, you go first this time,” she said. Her smile never faltered.

Bog narrowed his eyes for a brief second. Perhaps he should have taken Marianne and Sunny’s advice…but no. The chances were too slim. And it was too late, anyway. He flipped over his hand, revealing his four sevens.

A delighted shriek erupted from Dawn as she flipped over her eight-to-queen straight flush.

Bog’s jaw dropped and he stared in disbelief. Stuff, Brutus, and Marianne roared with laughter.

“I tried to warn you,” Sunny told him, trying to suppress a laugh of his own.  

“Damn it,” Bog growled in response.

“Well, now that BK has no money left, I’m going to bed,” Stuff said after her laughing subsided and she could breathe again. Bog glared at her.

Thang and Brutus echoed her sentiments as the three of them stood up and stretched.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Sunny agreed as he yawned and stretched as well.

Marianne turned to Bog. “Care for a walk?” she asked him.

Bog smiled up at her. “Sure!” was his answer.

“Have fun!” Dawn said with a knowing smile as the two of them stood up. Marianne shot her a look, but didn’t respond to it. Bog and Marianne bid everyone good night and turned to leave the room.

That was when the late hour finally struck Bog. There were very few other people in the room, and all he could see of the sky outside the windows were stars.

As soon as he and Marianne were out on the promenade, she burst out into another fit of laughter. Bog rolled his eyes.

“I—“ Marianne snorted, “I’m sorry! I just—“ she forced herself to take a breath, “—can’t believe you lost by such a close hand!” She dissolved back into laughter.

“I can’t believe your sister is such a good poker player,” Bog responded. “Where did she learn to play like that, anyway?”

Marianne finally sobered up and had to wipe away tears of mirth from her eyes. “Sunny taught her, actually. He and his cousin Pare. And trust me, you do _not_ want to get the three of them together in a game. They get _so_ vicious.”

“Noted,” Bog said. As they walked, he noticed Marianne had her arms folded tightly across her chest to ward off the freezing night. The thought only occurred to him vaguely that it was unusual for it to be so cold this time of the year, but he passed it off as being the part of the ocean they were sailing into.

More important was the fact that Marianne was obviously cold, and was out here without a coat. Without any further thought Bog shrugged out of his jacket and slid it around Marianne’s shoulders.

The action surprised Marianne and it looked for a second like she was going to refuse to take it. “Aren’t you cold?” she asked.

He hadn’t quite expected that to be her objection. “Nah,” he said, the corner of his mouth slanting up in a smile. “I’m Scottish, remember? It has to get a lot colder than this.”

Marianne giggled at his quip. Dear God, was she beautiful when she laughed.

“It is unusual, though. Shouldn’t it be warmer?” she said, oblivious to his thought processes. They had made it to the front of the promenade overlooking the ship’s forecastle and the decks below and stopped at the railing. The ocean stretching out in front of them was like a sheet of glass and the only wind was being generated by _Titanic_ as she cut through the night.

“Yes, but at least it’s a clear night,” Bog said. He glanced over at Marianne then. She was gazing up into the starlit sky.

Bog found himself disappointed by the fact that there was no moon that night. Maybe it was because he had been hit by the thought that she would look absolutely beautiful under the light of a full moon.

A split-second too late he realized he had said that out loud. Her eyes snapped to his just then, a blush rising to her cheeks that had nothing to do with the cold air.

His own face flushed and he raked a hand through his hair. “I—I—umm, t-that is—“ he coughed out.

“No one’s ever said anything like that to me before.” She said it in a near-whisper, and it brought his incoherent stuttering to a screaming halt.

He met her eyes then, and he would never be sure which one of them moved first, but he moved in to her, and she was grabbing at his collar, and then their lips met. It was tentative at first, but then the first turned into another. And now their arms were around one another, and her fingers were running through his hair in a way that sent fire coursing down his spine. Then their tongues were pushing into one another’s mouths, and oh dear God was her mouth even sweeter than he could have ever imagined!—

\--The sudden clanging of a bell from high above their heads suddenly pierced the night. Their kiss broke with it, as had the magic that had settled over the two of them. Bog’s eyes fluttered open and he glared up towards the source of the sudden noise.

“What in the…?” Marianne murmured, her voice full of irritation at the interruption.

 It had to have come from the crow’s nest, it had been just a bit too far away to be from the ship’s bridge, which was directly above them. Right then, a voice drifted down through the quiet night from the same direction the bell had come from.

“Iceberg, right ahead.”

 

 

 _It’s 11:39 PM. The night is crystal clear and below freezing, as is the water_ Titanic _is sailing through. There is also no moon, and the water is completely calm. Up in the crow’s nest, Lookouts Fredrick Fleet and Reginald Lee are doing the best they can to do their jobs, but with the night so dark and the ocean so calm, anything in Titanic’s path would be very difficult to see until they were right on top of it. Compounding the problem was the fact that they were not equipped with binoculars. One of my sources claims that they were on the ship, and yet no one could ever find them.  Another one of my sources says they were removed completely at Southampton. Another one of my sources claims that it wouldn’t have mattered on a night so dark, that it would have only made a difference of a few seconds. Either way, the two men on the ship who needed them the most didn’t have them._

 _Earlier that day, ice warnings became more and more frequent. One message that was given directly to Captain Smith that afternoon was then taken by Bruce Ismay, who showed it to several passengers before returning it to Captain Smith a couple of hours later. Another message that came in that evening never made it to the bridge due to the backlog of passenger’s messages Chief Operator John George Phillips was trying to relay to Cape Race, Newfoundland. A final attempted warning by the_ SS Californian _, who was stopped because of the ice near_ Titanic’s _position, was made about 11 PM. Phillips, however, was busy trying to get his messages out, and cut off_ Californian’s _operator halfway through the warning._ Californian’s _one and only wireless operator would turn off his wireless radio half an hour later and go to bed._ Californian _, who would be only ten miles away from_ Titanic _for the duration of the night, would remain oblivious to what had happened until the next morning._

 _The moment Fleet and Lee spot the iceberg, they ring the bell three times to signal the danger and they immediately call it down to the bridge. First Officer William Murdoch, who was in command of the bridge that night, immediately orders a hard-to-starboard. The maneuver he was attempting was to port the ship around the iceberg in an attempt to miss it. Unfortunately, the ship is too close._ Titanic _strikes the iceberg thirty-seven seconds later at 11:40 PM on her starboard side._

 _Scientists have since found that the cause of the rupture to_ Titanic’s _hull was not because it was sliced open, but because of an impurity in the metal used to cast the rivets holding the hull plates together. The impurity caused the metal to become brittle when exposed to freezing temperatures, and when_ Titanic _grazed the iceberg, the rivets couldn’t hold up to the stress being put on them and were torn out in several places along her first five watertight compartments. The hull plates then buckled and water started to flood in._

_The impact woke up Captain Smith, who orders the ship stopped and sends Forth Officer Joseph Boxhall to get Thomas Andrews and go inspect the damage. The inspection takes fifteen minutes altogether, but Andrews only needs five to determine that the ship is sinking._


	7. Chapter 7

_When Titanic collides with the iceberg, many passengers and crew don’t even realize there is a problem. Some of them feel the ship shaking as she grazes the iceberg and some in the lower decks even hear the sound of the impact and the scraping. Many would become aware that something had happened only because the engines suddenly stop running. The few that are still awake hear and feel what happened, and some of them even see the iceberg themselves. But even among them, they don’t realize Titanic’s hull has been breached. It begins circulating among some of the crew that the ship had lost a propeller blade, and for a while that is all anyone besides the bridge crew knows of what is going on._

“Did he just say ‘iceberg’?” Marianne asked.

“I think so,” Bog answered, the last of his lust-induced haze lifting from his mind. His gaze first went to the bridge above them, straining to hear something definite from the crew there. The thought he heard an order being called out when Marianne suddenly shook his arm, calling his attention back to her.

“Look!” she said, pointing to the bow of the ship, her eyes widening slightly.

Bog looked out in the direction she indicated. And there, looming out of the darkness and directly in _Titanic’s_ path was a massive iceberg. “Holy…” he said under his breath.

He could feel Marianne grabbing his sleeve, and he laid a hand over hers, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the obstruction. It looked like the ship was simply going to hit it.

Then the bow began slowly turning to port, but it obviously hadn’t been in time. Chunks of ice began falling off of the iceberg and onto the forecastle as the ship grazed it. Then the deck began to vibrate under their feet and Bog could swear he heard a grinding sound below them.

As the ship continued to graze the iceberg, more ice fell onto the open deck below them. Then the ship continued by the iceberg, and as they passed it, Bog and Marianne both rushed over to the railing. When he looked down at the iceberg, he could swear he saw red and black paint streaking the side of it. Then the iceberg disappeared behind them and into the night as Titanic’s stern swung away from it.

“Oh my God,” Marianne finally breathed out. “We just hit that thing, didn’t we?”

“We had to have. I saw paint on it,” Bog said.

Marianne looked up at him just then. “I don’t have a good feeling about this,” she commented.

Bog knew how she was feeling. He didn’t like it either.

Further down the promenade, several more people had come out of both the lounge and the smoking room further aft to see what was happening. Bog could see more people appearing on the deck below that was littered with pieces of ice.

He cocked his head towards the bridge above them, straining to hear something from the crewmen there. But with voices rising from the deck below them as people began playing with the chunks of ice and the other people further down the promenade speculating about what had just happened, trying to differentiate voices from the bridge would be nearly impossible.

“Maybe someone inside knows what’s going on,” Marianne suggested.

“Good idea,” Bog said. With that, Marianne threaded her hand through his and they both hurried to the nearest door that led inside.

Unfortunately, that endeavor proved fruitless. The one steward they came across could only speculate that the ship had likely lost a propeller blade and would probably cause them a short delay. Then he advised that they return to their rooms and could he get them anything? They politely declined his offer, and he went on his way.

“Damn it,” Marianne muttered as soon as the steward was out of earshot. Bog agreed with her. There didn’t seem to be any point to trying to ask anyone else. They likely wouldn’t know, anyway.

“Let’s go back to our rooms. I’ll have Brutus find out what’s going on,” Bog said. Obviously frustrated, Marianne only nodded in agreement.

They were about to descent the staircase when Marianne suddenly froze, her hand on the banister.

“What’s wrong?” Bog asked. Marianne looked up at him.

“Do you feel that?”

Bog laid his hand on the banister next to hers. She was right, something was missing.

“I think we’ve stopped,” Marianne said. Bog turned and went to the nearest window. The nearly-black and star-spattered horizon the ship had been gliding by was no longer moving.

Just then, two men rushed by them, one dressed in the uniform of the ship’s officers, and both of them looking extremely disturbed. The one in civilian’s clothing looked slightly pale. Then both men continued up the stairs and out of sight.

Marianne blinked in recognition as Bog returned to her side. “That was Thomas Andrews,” she told him.

“The ship’s builder?” Bog knew of him and had heard he was on the ship, but had never personally met him. But if the bridge crew were summoning the ship’s architect and the two of them were looking like that…..

“Come on. You might want to wake your sister up,” Bog said, and the two of them hurried down the stairs.

“Right,” Marianne agreed, shrugging his jacket off as they descended and returning it to him.

“I’ll come by and let you know what is going on as soon as I find out,” Bog said as soon as they were on B Deck.

Marianne leaned up on her tiptoes to peck his lips in a kiss. “Thank you,” she said, giving him a smile that was tinged with worry. Then she turned and headed in the direction of her stateroom while he turned and headed for Brutus, Stuff, and Thang’s stateroom.

 

As soon as she was behind the door of her stateroom, Marianne leaned on it and had to force herself to take a breath. She wanted to curse and scream. The night had been going so well! And that kiss had been so much better than the one she had dreamed up the night before, and Bog hadn’t even had to put his hands on her. That woman from Bog’s past who had rejected him had no idea what she was missing out on. To her memory, Roland had certainly never kissed her like _that_.

Now she had this intense feeling of dread weighing down on her. She forced herself to take another breath. Panicking wouldn’t help anything. She needed to focus.

First things first, she had to get Dawn out of bed. Something told Marianne she might also want to make her get dressed. Worst case scenario, she was worrying over nothing and Dawn would only be annoyed with her for making her wake up. Marianne went to Dawn’s room and opened the door…

…only to find Dawn’s bed unoccupied.

“Damn it, Dawn,” Marianne muttered under her breath. Looking around, there was no sign Dawn had even come back to their stateroom. She and Sunny were likely in third-class again.

Cursing under her breath again, Marianne turned and left her stateroom in search of her wayward sister and escort. 

 

Bog only had to knock once on their door. Thang answered as soon as he had.

“Sir, weren’t you with--?” Thang started as he let Bog in. He had already shed his jacket, tie, and waistcoat, and his shirt was untucked and half-way unbuttoned. Brutus was in a similar state of undress, and Stuff, who had poked her head out of her room, was already in her nightgown.

“Something’s happened to the ship,” Bog said, cutting off Thang’s question. Then he told them what he and Marianne had seen.

“Oh my God,” Stuff murmured as soon as he was finished.

“That explains why the engines have stopped,” Thang said.

“And no one knows what’s going on yet?” Brutus asked, already readjusting his shirt and putting his shoes back on.

“Apparently not,” Bog answered, and that was all he needed to say. Brutus nodded once, grabbed his jacket, and was out of the room before anyone could say anything else.

With that, Bog turned to Stuff. “You might want to get dressed,” he suggested. Stuff only nodded wordlessly and returned to her room. Thang was already rebuttoning his shirt and looking for his discarded waistcoat.

 

April 15, 1912

Marianne finally found Sunny and Dawn on the Grand Staircase at C Deck. She guessed they had been in the third-class common room on D Deck when she didn’t find them in the smoking room and was headed down there.

“Marianne!” Sunny exclaimed as soon as he saw her. “Do you know what’s going on?”

“Yeah, we were in the common room in steerage when there was this loud grinding sound, and then not long after that, the engines stopped,” Dawn said, confirming Marianne’s suspicions.

“Yeah, I was taking Dawn upstairs. We thought we should go back to our rooms,” Sunny finished.

“The ship hit an iceberg,” Marianne explained. “And it’s pretty serious. You were right, we should get back to our rooms.”

Dawn and Sunny exchanged glances at this and Sunny squeezed Dawn’s shoulder in comfort. “Right,” he said. Then he turned and headed back down to his room on E Deck. Then Dawn grabbed Marianne’s hand and the two of them went upstairs to B Deck.

 

Marianne and Dawn were at the door of their stateroom when Brutus passed through the intersection further down the hallway. A bit further past him, stewards were knocking on doors and speaking to passengers.

“Mr. Tarven!” Marianne called. Brutus stopped, and seeing who had called him, immediately changed his direction and came over to them. Marianne couldn’t help but notice he looked somewhat pale.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Dawn asked him.

Brutus looked up and down the hallway, as if checking if anyone was nearby.  Then he drew in a deep, steadying breath and leaned in close to them.

“The ship is sinking,” he said in a low voice. Marianne felt the blood drain from her face. Dawn gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth.

“They’re guessing the ship has an hour or two,” he continued. “Change into something warm and get your life jackets. The captain wants everyone on the boat deck.”

Dawn looked like she was about to start crying. Marianne put an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll meet you on the boat deck, then,” she told Brutus. He immediately left to tell Bog and the others while Marianne steered Dawn into their stateroom.

“Alright,” Marianne started as soon as they were inside, her dress already halfway unbuttoned, “the life jackets are on top of the—Dawn?” Marianne turned back around when she realized Dawn hadn’t moved any further away from the door. Dawn was rooted to the spot, one shaking hand still hovering over her mouth, the other fisted at her collar. Her eyes were brimming with unshed tears.

Marianne walked back to her and put her hands on her shoulders. “Dawn!” she called, shaking her. Dawn started, blinked hard, and began pulling in ragged breaths.

“I know, Dawn, believe me, I know!” Marianne said firmly, forcing Dawn to meet her eyes. “But we can panic later! Right now, we need to get moving!”

Dawn nodded wordlessly and forced herself to draw in a deep breath. “Right, yeah, okay,” she exhaled.

“Good,” Marianne said, moving behind Dawn to unbutton her dress for her. “Now, the life jackets are on top of the armoire. Make sure you’re wearing boots and don’t forget about your coat.” Dawn nodded wordlessly again. Her breathing was steadier, even if she hadn’t completely calmed down.

Marianne finished unbuttoning Dawn’s dress and was standing in front of her again. “Hey,” she said, catching Dawn’s attention. “We’re going to be fine, okay?” Dawn drew in another deep breath and sniffled this time. Marianne pressed a kiss to her forehead and then turned towards her room again, reaching around to continue unbuttoning her own dress. She could hear Dawn finally moving behind her as she went to her own room to change.

 

Marianne and Dawn met Bog and his people on the staircase to the boat deck. Like Marianne and Dawn, they too were carrying their life jackets. On their way, Marianne noticed that not nearly as many people seemed to be in a hurry to get upstairs. When the six of them arrived at the boat deck, there were not nearly as many people waiting outside as there should have been, even though one of the ship’s officers had begun calling for women and children to board the lifeboats.

“I take it they haven’t announced what’s going on,” Stuff commented as she pulled her life jacket on.

“If they did, they’d have a mass hysteria on their hands,” Bog said.

Suddenly Dawn gasped. “Sunny!” she cried.

“What?” Marianne said, looking up at Dawn from where she was shaking out her own life jacket to put on.

“We have to go find him, he doesn’t know what’s going on yet!” Dawn said, throwing her life jacket down to the deck and turning to go back inside. Marianne grabbed Dawn’s arm.

“Dawn, he’s probably already on his way up!” Marianne said, but Dawn only wrenched her arm out of Marianne’s grasp, and before anyone could say anything else, Dawn had run back inside.

Marianne spat out a curse and tossed her life jacket onto a nearby bench. “I’ll be right back,” she called over her shoulder as she chased after Dawn. She thought she heard Bog yelling at his people to stay put. Her suspicions were confirmed a couple of minutes later when Bog caught up to her on the staircase, having discarded his own life jacket. She thought for a second about telling him to go back upstairs, but then thought the better of it. It would be much easier to drag Dawn back up to the boat deck, kicking and screaming if necessary, if she had help.

 

To say Sunny was agitated would have been an understatement. When he left Dawn and Marianne, he returned to his cabin, but he only waited there for no more than ten minutes before he decided he couldn’t wait around. Something seriously wrong had happened and he needed to at least be sure they were okay. He had been halfway down the hallway from his cabin when stewards and maids had appeared, knocking on cabin doors. When he heard one of them telling the occupants to dress warmly and get their life jackets, he returned to his cabin long enough to grab his coat.

He was halfway across E Deck when he came across two families. They looked like they were steerage passengers, and looked even more like they were lost. When he stopped to ask if they needed help, he found that only one member of their group just barely knew any English. Reasoning that whatever was going on, Marianne and Dawn could take care of getting themselves ready, so he gestured for the group to follow him and led them up as far as A Deck. Then he pointed them up to the boat deck and returned to B Deck.

When he arrived at Dawn and Marianne’s stateroom, though, they weren’t there. The only sign they had been there at all were the dresses they had been wearing earlier left on their beds.

Sunny immediately left the room in search of them. When he asked several people who were still milling around the staircase at A Deck, someone finally told him that they’d seen the Springwood sisters headed to the boat deck a little while ago. Sunny breathed out a sigh of relief when he heard that. Maybe they’d even already gotten on a lifeboat.

Now here he was on the boat deck, and he didn’t see them anywhere. He was still looking around for them when he heard his name called.

“Mr. Elfman!” It was Stuff, followed closely by Thang and Brutus.

“Miss Holland! Have Dawn and Marianne…?” he asked her as soon as they reached one another.

“They went back inside looking for you,” Thang said.

“Yeah, you might want to stay with us,” Stuff said.

“Do any of you know what’s going on?” Sunny asked them. Stuff, Thang, and Brutus then glanced at one another, and then Stuff took his arm and led him away from the crowd. Thang and Brutus remained near them.

Stuff leaned close and lowered her voice, looking around to make sure no one could hear them. “We’re sinking,” she told him, and Sunny could feel himself going bloodless.

“I have to go find them,” he said, turning and lunging for the doorway that led back to the stairs. Suddenly Brutus and Thang had a hold of him, and Stuff was standing in front of him.

“Hey, once they see that you aren’t down there, they’ll come back, so _stay here_ ,” Stuff said. Her words managed to work themselves through the buzzing in his brain, and he stopped struggling with Brutus and Thang.

“Right, you’re right,” he agreed, drawing in a deep breath and forcing himself into a calm he didn’t want to feel.

 

Bog and Marianne lost sight of Dawn about halfway down to E Deck. Almost as soon as they had, Marianne had started muttering curse words under her breath. On top of that, they never saw Sunny among the stream of people making their way up towards the boat deck. Dawn had been hell-bent on getting down here, though, so they continued on downstairs.

The moment the two of them arrived at E Deck, Marianne began shouting Dawn’s and Sunny’s names at the top of her lungs. Of course, she didn’t get an immediate answer. With the way the crowd had thinned out the lower into the ship they got, the only other people likely to be down here would be either staff or crew members.

“ _Damn it_ ,” Marianne spat out, her breath heaving. She scrubbed both hands through her hair and looked like she was trying very hard not to fall into a panic attack.

“Marianne, look at me,” Bog said, putting a hand on her shoulder and giving her what he hoped was a comforting squeeze. “We’ll find her,” he said when she met his eyes.

Marianne drew in a deep breath and laid a hand over his, returning his gesture. “You don’t think Sunny is down here then, either?”

“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t. I think he’s already on the boat deck. But your sister won’t be satisfied until we make sure of that,” he said.

Marianne let out a humorless laugh. “You’re right, she won’t.”

“Let’s split up,” Bog suggested. “We’ll meet back here when we find them.”

“Good idea. I’ll go that way,” Marianne said, motioning behind her. Bog nodded and turned in the other direction.

“Bog?” Marianne called when he’d gotten a few steps away.

He immediately turned back around. “Yes?”

“You know you didn’t have to come down here, right?”

The corner of Bog’s mouth slanted up in a smile. “Exactly. I didn’t _have_ to.”

It took Marianne a moment to process that, and then she started blinking rapidly. And then, despite their situation, despite the emergency, she gave him the most tender and grateful smile he had ever received in his life. He could have died a very happy man right then and there.

His own grin softened in return. Without another word, she turned and headed down the hallway, rounded a corner, and disappeared down the corridor. She began calling for Dawn and Sunny again. It took him a moment to do the same.

 

A little while later found Bog in what had to be approaching the aft of the ship. He had started by going forward, calling Sunny’s and Dawn’s names like Marianne had been, until he couldn’t go anymore. The distinctive tilt to the floor under his feet barely registered with him at first, as did the sounds of rushing water. But it had finally grabbed his attention when he literally almost walked into it. He had jerked back with a curse and looked down the passage ahead of him. The water only got deeper further down the hallway, and it was slowly rising. Sending up a prayer for whoever might have been unfortunate enough to still be down there and reasoning that neither Dawn nor Marianne would be in that direction, Bog quickly went back the way he came.

He had meant what he had said to Marianne. He really didn’t believe Sunny would still be down there. He had also meant what he said when he told her he didn’t _have_ to come down there with her.  But he would be goddamned if he let either Marianne or her sister come down to the lower decks of a sinking ship alone. It had honestly shocked him when he realized just how much both Springwood sisters had grown on him in such a short amount of time, especially the eldest one.

Unfortunately he had no time to analyze that. Right now he needed to focus on finding the younger Springwood sister and possibly her escort, then he needed to get back to Marianne and get all of them back up to the lifeboats.

He’d worry about his feelings for Marianne after he made sure she was being rowed away from this bloody ship.

After he made his way back to the staircase where he and Marianne had split up and he resumed his search, it occurred to him that he had never asked Marianne which cabin was Sunny’s. It had also occurred to him that he had left his watch in his stateroom, and there was no time for him to go upstairs and get it. Now he was nearly to the third-class cabins at the back of this deck, and it had been a while since he had seen another person, much less Marianne or Dawn.

And the floor was taking on a steeper tilt, and if he wasn’t mistaken, the lights looked a bit dimmer. Bog had already started calling Marianne’s name in addition to Dawn’s and Sunny’s. He was giving some serious thought now to calling off this search and heading to the boat deck. Assuming Dawn hadn’t given up and returned upstairs herself, he started mentally preparing himself to throw her over his shoulder if need be.

Bog had begun making his way down the corridor leading to the third-class cabins when he suddenly had company. He had no idea where Roland Knight had appeared from, nor did he care. But there he was, strolling oh-so-casually next to him.

“What do you want, Knight?” Bog growled, only sparing him a brief glance as continued down the hallway. He had a feeling he already knew the answer to this.  

Knight held his hands up in front of him. “I only want to talk,” he said, feigning innocence.

“So then talk,” Bog snapped. He had gone as far down the hallway as he could and was forced to turn around.

“Really, there’s no need for hostilities,” Knight responded. “Mr...King, is it?”

Bog only answered by shooting Knight an annoyed glare and continuing down the hallway. They had made it back among the second-class cabins, and Bog turned a corner down a hallway that led to the side Marianne should have been searching. He hoped she had found Dawn by now.

“Anyway,” Knight continued, refusing to be deterred, “I wanted to talk to you about Marianne.”

Of course he did. “Later, Knight. I’m busy,” Bog said, not even looking at Knight this time.

“Oh, I have to insist that you do,” Knight said. Bog stopped and closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and counted to ten. He really shouldn’t do what he was about to do, he knew it.

“Fine then,” Bog growled through gritted teeth. “What about Marianne?”

“I’d like you to help me convince her that I’d be better for her,” Knight announced.

Bog wanted very badly to laugh in his face. Marianne hated Knight, and they both knew it. He didn’t allow his face to betray his amusement at Knight’s request, however. He had had the feeling that was what it was.

“Are you honestly still on about that?” Bog asked him. “She can’t stand the sight of you, and after what you did to her, I don’t blame her in the least bit.”

Knight’s moss-green eyes narrowed. “I take it she told you all about that little misunderstanding,” he said.

“Aye, she did,” Bog confirmed. “And anyone with the slightest bit of sense would hesitate to call that a _‘little misunderstanding.’_ ”

“Oh, come on, King, you don’t mean to tell me that if you were married, you wouldn’t have a couple of mistresses on the side? We are men, after all. It’s what we do,” Knight said.

Bog had never wanted to punch someone so much in his entire life. As it was, he had his hands fisted so hard at his sides that he could feel his nails digging into his palms. “No, believe it or not. Call it a modern notion, but I believe that if a woman decides to promise to spend the rest of her life with you, you owe her the courtesy of being loyal to her.” With that, Bog turned and continued down the hallway in search of Marianne and Dawn.

Knight was suddenly standing in his path. “You know, it would really be in your best interests to help me,” he said.

Bog only shoved past him. “Go fuck yourself, Knight,” he snarled.

This only fueled Knight’s determination, because the next thing Bog knew, Knight was in his path again. This time he didn’t have words, only his fist flying towards Bog’s face.

Bog’s arm came up to block the hit, and then he rapidly side-stepped and blocked two more punches aimed at his face. Knight, having been caught off-guard by Bog’s speed, left an opening that Bog jumped on. The heel of Bog’s boot connected with Knight’s mid-section and Knight was slammed into the wall behind him from the force.

Bog bit back a curse. He really needed to find Marianne and Dawn, but he had the feeling Knight wasn’t going to give up until one of them was completely incapacitated or dead. Bog was certain, however, that he didn’t dare turn his back on Roland Knight again.

  

 _Andrews tells Captain Smith he estimates that_ Titanic _has an hour, possibly two, before_ _she goes down. Captain Smith then goes to the wireless room and gives the ship’s position to Chief Operator Phillips and Junior Operator Harold Bride and orders them to start transmitting CQD, the regulation distress call at the time. Several ships respond immediately, and even Cape Race receives their signal._

 _At approximately 12:25 PM, Operator Harold Cottam on the RMS_ Carpathia _had been visiting with the officers on the bridge of his ship when he returns to his wireless room, ready to go to bed. He decides to turn on his radio one last time, and it’s just in time to catch_ Titanic’s _distress call. Cottam immediately answers back, and then rushes the news first to the bridge, and then to the captain’s cabin, where Captain Arthur Rostron had already gone to bed. Rostron is at first annoyed by the interruption, but the second he hears the news, he orders_ Carpathia _immediately turned around for_ Titanic’s _position. Cottam relays this information to_ Titanic _and tells Phillips they’re 58 miles away and coming as fast as they can. Unfortunately, their best speed is about 14 knots, and it will take_ Carpathia _about 4 hours to get there. As far as anyone is aware,_ Carpathia _is the closest ship to_ Titanic.

 _Right about this time, it occurs to Captain Smith that_ Titanic _is lost. He then orders the lifeboats prepared and has the crew begin waking up passengers and sending them up to the boat deck. He orders that women and children be loaded in as soon as the boats are ready to go. However, there are a few issues that arise here. The first is that a lifeboat drill had been scheduled for earlier that day that had been cancelled. Most of the crew don’t know how to operate the lifeboats once they’re launched, much less do they know how many people they can safely fit inside them. The second is that there are not enough lifeboats for everyone on the ship. Regulations at the time dictated that a ship only be equipped with lifeboats based on the ship’s tonnage, meaning that a lot of ships don’t have enough. The third is that with many of the passengers not knowing what is happening, they are initially resistant to getting in the boats. Many of them still believe in the “unsinkable” theory and think they’ll be safer on the ship. Some don’t believe there is a problem at all. And besides all of that, it’s cold outside._


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to see what Titanic's sinking looked like from beginning to end, go here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSGeskFzE0s (James Cameron is in this video, BTW.)

_Several other ships have received_ Titanic’s _distress call, including_ Virginian _and_ Titanic’s _sister ship,_ Olympic. _Both ships are unfortunately too far away from them to be of any help. Eventually, Bride suggests to Phillips to start using the new code, SOS. It might be his last chance to use it, after all. Phillips is the first wireless operator in history to use the code._

 _Ten miles away,_ Californian _can see_ Titanic’s _lights. They don’t know it’s her, though, and with no one thinking to wake her wireless operator, they don’t know she’s in trouble. Captain Lord orders his people to try signaling the other ship with a Morse lamp. As far as they can tell they never get a response._

 _Over on_ Titanic _, passengers and crew alike can see_ Californian’s _lights. They aren’t responding to_ Titanic’s _distress calls on the wireless radio, though. Captain Smith orders one of his crewmen to signal the ship with their own Morse lamp, but as far as they know, it’s not working. Captain Smith then orders him to start firing distress rockets. It’s about 12:45 AM. Right about this time, the first lifeboat, Boat #7, has been launched._

 _Over on_ Californian, _they can see the rockets, but to Captain Lord, they look like the wrong color for distress rockets. Captain Lord gives up trying to signal the other ship and goes to bed. The crew of_ Californian _will see all eight distress rockets_ Titanic _will fire. He won’t learn until the next morning what has happened, well after_ Carpathia _arrives._

_On the boat deck, First Officer William Murdoch has been placed in charge of launching the starboard side lifeboats, and Second Officer Charles Lightoller has been placed in charge of the port side boats. Both men interpret the Captain’s order to load up women and children first differently, though. Murdoch takes it to mean to allow women and children first, and then men if there is room. Lightoller believes he means women and children only._

_As the lifeboats are being launched, it becomes more and more obvious to people that they really need to get into them. Murdoch and Lightoller are also having another problem. There are a serious shortage of crewmen available that know how to operate the lifeboats, so they’re having to ration them out. Collapsible lifeboat “C” is the last one to leave on the starboard side at about 1:40 AM. Chairman Ismay, who became something of a nuisance as the crew were trying to load the lifeboats (to the point where one of the officers finally yelled at him to get out of the way), climbs into the boat at the last second. He goes on to have a mental breakdown and becomes a recluse from society after the_ Titanic _disaster._

_The final lifeboat to be launched is Collapsible lifeboat “D” at approximately 2:05 AM. By this point, water is reaching the bridge and the bow is otherwise completely submerged. The ultimately accepted story behind Captain Smith’s fate is that he is last seen standing in the wheelhouse of his ship._

_By now, the electricity is starting to strain, and the lights are taking on a reddish glow. Those in the lifeboats can see the stern rising up out of the water. At approximately 2:10 AM, the wireless room gets out the last of the distress calls they’re able to send. They simply don’t have the power available to send more. Still, Phillips keeps trying until about 2:17, when the wireless room loses power completely, and he and Bride finally leave the wireless room. That will be the last time Bride ever sees Phillips._

_In the meantime, the remaining crew are struggling to get the final two collapsibles off the roof of the officer’s quarters. When they try to lower Collapsible lifeboat “B,” it capsizes on its way down to the deck. Collapsible boat “A” is lowered a little more carefully, although she won’t be properly prepared for launch. Both boats are put directly into the water as the ocean is finally overtaking the boat deck. At 2:18 AM,_ Titanic _finally loses power completely. Then the first of the four smokestacks falls forward towards the port side, washing boats A and B away from the ship. People begin swimming for both boats._

 _At 2:19 AM,_ Titanic _breaks in half between her third and fourth funnels. The break itself is submerged, so to anyone watching from the lifeboats, it looks like she ship re-levels for a moment, and then is pulled straight up and gives a hard twist to port as her keel finally breaks._

Titanic _sinks completely at 2:20 AM on April 15, 1912._

 

 

Dawn rushed through the corridor towards the stairs, nearly at a run. What had she been thinking, coming down here, and alone no less?! Marianne had been right, she shouldn’t have left the boat deck. But then, she hadn’t been thinking when she rushed back inside after shaking Marianne off of her, had she? All she had known was that Sunny was her best friend, she couldn’t leave him down here. On her way down, she had thought Marianne was behind her, but she must have been wrong.

As soon as she was on E Deck, she had rushed straight to Sunny’s cabin, only to find him not there. Then she began searching the whole deck for him. She hadn’t seen anyone else since she had arrived. It was only after she had looked everywhere she could (and she considered it the grace of God that she didn’t faint when she saw the water rising in the forward half of the deck a while back) that what Marianne had tried to tell her registered with her.

Then she walked by a clock. How long did Mr. Tarven say the ship had? An hour? That had been nearly an hour ago. Or had it been longer than that? She needed to get back upstairs. Marianne was probably worried sick. That was if they didn’t make her get in a lifeboat by now.

No, she wouldn’t be in a lifeboat. Marianne wouldn’t leave without her.

Dawn was approaching an intersection when she heard the sound of something heavy being slammed into a wall, immediately followed by a grunt of pain. The noise stopped her in her tracks. Who would be fighting at a time like this? Curiosity drove her to move cautiously forward again, carefully peeking around the corner.

Wait, was that Bog and Roland?! What the _hell_ were they doing down here?!

As Dawn watched in stunned silence, she noticed that the fight seemed pretty vicious. Roland had gotten a hit or two in, evidenced by the blood trickling from a cut on Bog’s lip. And yet it looked even to Dawn like Bog still had the upper hand in this fight. Roland had a quickly-darkening bruise on his left cheek and he wasn’t quite standing up straight.

Just then, Roland had rushed Bog again. Bog side-stepped, got an arm under him, and used his momentum to throw him backwards into a shut door. Roland hit it so hard Dawn could hear the wood cracking in the frame. Roland was only dazed for a moment, but then regained his feet. He was about to rush Bog again.

Without even considering it, Dawn’s feet were already on the move. She ran forward a second before Roland started moving. Before Roland could bring his fist up completely, Dawn threw herself at him, both of her arms winding around his raised arm and pulling him off-balance.

“LEAVE HIM _ALONE!!_ ”

 

Marianne was halfway back to the staircase where she had agreed to meet Bog. She had made a complete circuit of this deck and had not seen Dawn anywhere. She hadn’t seen Sunny either, but she also expected she wouldn’t. She was hoping that Bog had found Dawn and that they were now waiting on her.

Then she heard the sound of something impacting a wall from somewhere behind her. Had something fallen? It couldn’t have been. The floor was taking on a gradual incline, but it wasn’t that steep. Then she thought about Bog. She hadn’t found Dawn and she hadn’t seen him since they separated at the staircase. And then she hadn’t seen anyone else at all since they split up. Marianne was moving before she could give it any further thought. One of them was in trouble, she just knew it. 

Marianne was nearly to the source of the commotion when a voice that could only be Dawn’s shrieked out, “LEAVE HIM _ALONE!!_ ”

Marianne’s blood ran cold. It couldn’t be…

Then she was running, skidding to a stop at the intersection.

Just in time to see Roland flinging Dawn off of his arm and into a nearby wall.

Rage surged through Marianne’s veins and she rocketed forward, her arm raised and hand fisted, ready to slug Roland in his damn face—

\--when she was suddenly jerked backwards by Bog locking his arms around hers and forcing them back behind her.

“Let go of me!” she snapped at him.

“Stay out of this!” he snapped back.

Marianne only struggled against his grip. “He’s my problem!”

“Not at the moment he isn’t!” Bog released her, and the two of them turned to glare at each other. “Now get your sister and get out of here!”

“Aw, now this is hardly fair,” Roland cut in before Marianne could retort. Their attention was drawn to him at his words, just in time for Roland to make a grab for Dawn. Then he had one arm locked around her shoulders and his other hand came up, the brief glint of metal the only warning any of them got before the muzzle of the pistol came up level with Dawn’s temple. Marianne cried out in outrage.

“ _Let her go!_ ” Bog snarled at Roland, who only answered with a cold grin. It was all Marianne could do to not give in to the instinct to leap on Roland and claw his eyes out. She knew Bog wouldn’t take that chance, either.

“Oh, I’ll let her go. But I have a couple of, shall we say, _conditions_ , first?”

Marianne wanted to tell him what he could do with his conditions. But with her sister’s life on the line, she didn’t dare do any more than level her best death-glare at him in response.

Roland took their silence for leave to continue. “First, I want to talk to Marianne. And I want to talk to her alone.”

“I _will not_ do _anything_ as long as you’re holding my sister hostage,” Marianne snarled through gritted teeth.

Roland made a face as though he were considering what she said. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Then he removed his arm from around Dawn’s shoulders and lowered the gun.

Then, before Dawn could move away from him or Bog or Marianne could grab her, Roland shoved Dawn towards Bog. The brief confusion caused by Dawn stumbling into Bog’s arms drew Marianne’s attention away from Roland for a couple of seconds, but it was all he needed to leap past Dawn straight at Marianne. The next thing Marianne knew, the cold metal of the gun barrel was jammed under her jaw and Roland had a firm grip on the shoulder of her coat.

Dawn screamed and Bog let out an enraged snarl.

“There, that’s better,” Roland said. The gun was pressing so hard into her jaw that it was starting to hurt, but Marianne refused to let him see her pain. Instead she tried to keep her face arranged in an angry scowl.

“Fine, you have me, now let them leave!” Marianne said.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Roland answered. Roland’s eyes then darted around until they fell on something. Then a poisonous smile pulled at his lips.

“Both of you, in there,” Roland said to Dawn and Bog, motioning with his head towards a cabin behind them where the door had been left open. They both turned to see what he was talking about, and then back to Roland and Marianne. At their hesitation, Roland only pushed the gun’s muzzle harder into Marianne’s jaw, forcing her head back into his chest.

“Now I can’t take the chance of one of you following us or running for help, can I?” Roland told them. Bog looked ready to spit fire, and Dawn was clearly on the verge of tears. Marianne started struggling in his grip, but Roland wouldn’t budge.

Then Bog caught Marianne’s eyes, and a flash of something she couldn’t describe passed though them. Bog’s gaze flicked back up to Roland. Seeing that they didn’t have much of a choice, Bog narrowed his eyes, took Dawn by the shoulders, and led her into the cabin with him.

“Now close the door,” Roland instructed. Bog looked at Marianne again, and she tried to shake her head at him. That look passed across his face again, and then he did as Roland said and swung the door shut.

Marianne rolled her eyes and let out an annoyed growl. Roland started walking them forward. “Come on, Roland! We don’t have time for—WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” Marianne’s attempt at reasoning ended with a shriek when Roland shoved her into the wall next to the door he had just shut Bog and Dawn behind. The gun then moved to the back of her neck, keeping her in place while his other hand left her shoulder and went for his pocket.

Marianne went ice cold when she heard the tell-tale jangling of keys as Roland sorted through them with one hand.

“ _Where in the hell did you get those?!_ ” Marianne demanded.

“Did you know that an interesting thing happens to the staff when an emergency suddenly occurs?” Roland said as an answer. Then the keys moved into her field of vision to lock the door. Marianne screamed in outrage as he did. On the other side of the door, she could hear Bog’s equally-outraged yelling, followed by a savage pounding against it.

 Before she could make a grab for the keys, Roland tossed them down the hallway and his hand was fisted back in her coat. Then she was being pulled the other way down the hallway and away from the cabin.

 

Inside the cabin, Bog had gone from beating on the door with his fists to throwing himself against it shoulder first. He’d heard Marianne’s screaming and knew what it had to mean. He should have just grabbed Dawn and run for the nearest stairwell rather than comply with that rat bastard’s demands. There was no way Knight would kill Marianne, not when he needed her so badly.

Bog was forced to stop trying to break the door when his shoulder began protesting. Damn these inward-opening doors! And damn them for being brand new!

He had to stop himself before he went on a tirade and forced down a breath. Yes, he fully intended to beat the ever-loving shit out of Knight if he ever saw him again. But he had to focus. One thing at a time. First, he had to get himself and Dawn out of here. He forced down another breath.

Dawn’s anguished sobs broke through his thoughts. Bog turned to her. Her face was buried in her hands and her entire body was shaking. He immediately went to her and took her by the shoulders, gently forcing her to sit down on the nearby bed. He crouched down in front of her.

“Dawn? Hey! Look at me,” he ordered in as gentle a voice as he could muster. When she didn’t look up, he wrapped his hands around her wrists and tugged them away from her face. She tried to resist, but there wasn’t a lot of energy behind it.

“Dawn!” This time he moved his hands from her wrists to each side of her face. She was finally forced to meet his eyes, though she hadn’t stopped shaking. “I know you’re scared, but you have to pull yourself together! It’s going to take the both of us to get out of here!”

Dawn drew in a shallow breath. Tears were still streaming down her face. “It—this is—“ she rasped out.

“Breathe first,” Bog instructed.

Dawn drew in as deep a breath as she was able. “This is all my fault!” She would have dissolved back into sobbing, but Bog still had a hold of her. “If—“ she hiccupped, “if I h-had just listened to Marianne, you—you two wouldn’t have come down here, and—“

“And Knight wouldn’t have pulled the foolish stunt that he did?” Even Dawn’s crying stopped at Bog’s words and she looked at him in confusion.

Now that he had her attention, Bog went on. “Because you came down here with good intentions. You couldn’t have known for certain that any of us were following you, and I seriously doubt you would have assisted Knight in trapping us here.”

Dawn sniffled and blinked at him, considering what he said. “B-but if I h-had just stayed on the boat d-deck—“

“Then what? He might have still pulled a gun on one of us, only then there would have been more people around,” Bog reasoned. Dawn still looked confused.

“Look, what I’m getting at is you couldn’t have known this was going to happen, and panicking and blaming yourself isn’t going to help anything,” he finally explained. Dawn blinked again, but this time her confusion was gone and she drew in a deeper and steadier breath.  

Bog finally released her. “Now, we need to do something about this door.” Dawn swiped the tears off of her cheeks and nodded. He stood and pulled her to her feet. As soon as he was certain she wasn’t going to collapse back to the bed, he went to the door and studied it. Then he had an idea and turned back to Dawn.

“Start looking around for something we can unscrew these hinges with,” he said. Dawn nodded at him and went for the wardrobe in the corner of the room. Bog found the luggage belonging to the cabin’s occupant and began digging through it.

“Bog, what about this?” Dawn asked a few minutes later. He looked up from the trunk he had been digging through. In her hand was a folded up pocket knife.

“That’ll work,” he said, taking the knife from her. “See if you can find something else. This will go much faster if you can help me.” Dawn nodded and returned to searching the wardrobe while he unfolded the pocket knife and set to work unscrewing the hinges from the door.

Bog tried to not think about the way the floor was angling, nor about the waterline outside the window getting closer. He could only hope that these screws would come out easily.

 

Marianne stopped struggling against Roland after they managed to climb the first set of stairs out of E Deck. She was only wasting energy. There was also the fact that Roland still had the gun trained on her. She needed to think about how to get herself out of this so she could go back for Bog and Dawn. As they managed to clear another two flights of stairs and some hallways, it became obvious to Marianne that Roland knew where he was going. This wasn’t the main staircase that would have taken them to the boat deck faster, and there wasn’t another person in sight. The new angle of the floor was also becoming much more obvious, but Marianne couldn’t focus on that right now.

Then she noticed something else. Roland hadn’t spoken since they left E Deck, and she knew how fond he was of hearing himself talk. They were on C Deck, working their way down a corridor.

“Alright, we’re alone now. What do you want?” Marianne demanded.

“Whoa, I don’t think I like that tone of voice,” Roland retorted.

Marianne didn’t really care what he liked or didn’t like, and they both knew it. She chose not to point this out, however. “You were the one that wanted to talk,” she said instead.

“Well, you are right about that. We can work on your attitude towards me later,” he said. And Marianne’s plan immediately started to work, because even though he still had an iron grip on the back of her coat, the gun started lowering. She considered it a bonus that he didn’t seem to notice.

“First off,” he started as they kept walking through corridors, following the downward slope of the ship, and Marianne could see that they were headed for another stairway, “you know as well as I do that the captain’s ordered women and children into the lifeboats first. You’re gonna get me in one. We all know this ship doesn’t have much longer.”

Marianne had noticed a sign on the wall as they arrived at the stairway and began the steep climb up it. If they were going where she thought they were going, she’d only have one chance. “And?” she said, hoping he would take the bait.

“’And’ what?”

“Come on, Roland, we all know escaping a sinking ship is not the only thing you want.” Marianne began surreptitiously (she hoped) unbuttoning her coat.

He took the bait. “And after that, as soon as we’re back in America, you’re going to tell everyone you changed your mind about me and that you’re madly in love with me. And then you’re going to elope with me.” It was a testament to her acting skills that she didn’t dry-heave at that. Marianne then noticed that the gun’s muzzle was completely pointed away from her. They arrived at the second-class promenade on B Deck. She could hear the sounds of the crowd two decks above her. Further down, she could see a lifeboat being lowered.

Now was her chance. Marianne let her entire body go limp, and naturally Roland hadn’t been expecting it. She slid out of her coat, twisted around, and both hands came up to wrap around the gun. She then tore it out of Roland’s grasp, spun, and brought the gun up in her right hand, sighting down her arm while her left hand braced the right under the gun’s grip. She had the muzzle trained directly on his face.

Roland immediately dropped her coat and held his hands up. Marianne took a step towards him, and he took one backwards. She kept going until she had him backed up to the railing. Then she spared a brief glance over his shoulder. The way the ship was listing forward was much more obvious out here. This part of the ship was now much higher out of the water than it should have been.

Marianne narrowed her eyes at Roland, her glare becoming much more icy. “I would rather drown on this ship than escape it with you,” she snarled. Then she lowered the gun.

Roland lowered his hands and opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it would have been, Marianne wasn’t interested in finding out. All at once, she jerked her skirt up just high enough to bring up her foot and plant a hard kick right into the center of his chest. Roland was sent flying over the railing and into the ocean below.

Not bothering to stop and pick her coat up, Marianne turned and began making her way back down to E Deck, the gun still in her hand.

 

But for the increasing crowd around them, Sunny would have been pacing the boat deck. Neither Bog, Dawn, nor Marianne had made an appearance, and he had desperately wanted to go and look for them. Brutus, Stuff, and Thang had had to repeatedly remind him that he needed to stay here.

A little while ago, Stuff had been offered a place in a lifeboat. She had refused to go, which sparked an argument with Thang. He told her she was being foolish for not getting in the boat. There was room for her, and there were fewer and fewer of them. Stuff argued back that she would go when Bog, Dawn, and Marianne came back, and not before. Right about that time, distress rockets were being fired into the air, Sunny had begun to wonder if anyone was even coming to help them.

Then they overheard word that there was a shortage of crewmen available to man the boats. As lifeboats were lowered into the water, it was becoming more obvious. Thang then announced that he was going to the other side of the ship to lend a hand. Stuff had argued that he had never rowed a boat before, but he argued back that he could help load passengers, if nothing else. Then he smiled at them and disappeared into the crowd before anyone could say anything else, and they hadn’t seen him since.

Now they were down to the one collapsible lifeboat that was waiting to be uncovered and launched, and it was the last lifeboat on this side of the ship. Brutus had joined the few crewmen in helping to keep the crowd from rushing the boat while it was being prepared. Sunny waited with Stuff, scanning the crowd for any sign of their friends.

Then, it seemed all too soon, they started loading the lifeboat and the officer started calling for women and children.

“Do you see them _anywhere_?” Sunny asked, his patience nearly gone.

“No,” Stuff answered, a nervous edge to her own voice. She was getting apprehensive herself. Then there was a tap on her shoulder, and both Sunny and Stuff turned towards it.

“Miss?” one of the crewmen said. “there’s room for you in the boat.”

Stuff suddenly looked stricken. She exchanged a look with Sunny, and then with Brutus nearby, who had overheard. Then she cast another look over the crowd and Sunny knew who she was looking for.

“ _Go_ ,” he told her.

Stuff was about to argue with him, until Brutus cut her off. “Get in the boat, Stuff. You know he wouldn’t want you to wait on him.”

Stuff still looked like she was going to argue for a moment, but then closed her mouth and passed by the crewmen. She was then helped into the lifeboat. Sunny then turned around to scan the crowd again. Where the hell were they?

As Sunny watched the crowd and people were being handed into the lifeboat behind him, he noticed the majority of the crowd starting to head aft. But even with the thinning crowd, he still couldn’t find them.

Then came the announcement behind him: “That’s all the women and children, sir.”

“Right, then. Anyone else?” the officer called. Sunny and Brutus looked at one another. Others climbed into the lifeboat around them, and the crowd became significantly thinner.

“We need men for this boat, sir!” Sunny heard one of the crewmen tell the officer. Nearly everyone left had gotten into the lifeboat or were crewmen waiting to lower it to the water. Sunny had still been scanning the rest of the boat deck and was giving some serious thought to going below to search anyway when Brutus put a hand on his shoulder.

“I know, but we can’t wait anymore,” he said, sympathy all over his face.

Sunny was about to protest when the officer approached them. “Can either of you gentlemen row a boat?”

Sunny felt a coldness overtake him that had nothing to do with the freezing air around him. Yes, he knew how to row a boat. But…

He looked back to the now-nearly-deserted boat deck. He still couldn’t see Marianne, Dawn, or Bog anywhere. He should lie. He _could_ lie.

Then he looked back at the lifeboat. Those people were in need of someone to help them get clear of the ship and to safety.

“I do,” he heard Brutus say to the officer.

“So do I,” Sunny found himself saying. He glanced back at the boat deck one more time.

“Come on, then, gentlemen,” the officer said. Sunny drew in a breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and then hurried to the lifeboat before he could think much harder about what he was doing. Brutus was right behind him.

As the both of them took up positions next to Stuff, the officer called to the crewmen on deck to begin lowering the lifeboat. Then it was momentarily halted as one last man scrambled in. The officer only shot him a look, and then continued having the lifeboat lowered.

Sunny could feel tears welling up in his eyes as the boat descended closer to the water.

Stuff reached over and grabbed his hand. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured.

“Mr. Dagda’s never gonna forgive me for this,” Sunny murmured back. “I was supposed to be looking after them…”

“I don’t think Ms. Griselda is going to forgive me either,” Brutus said. Stuff reached over with her other hand to grab one of Brutus’s.

“If it makes either one of you feel any better, she might not like me very much, either. You know how she always thought of us as his caretakers while we were away from home,” she said, squeezing both of their hands.

Then the lifeboat was in the water, and the falls were released, and Stuff had to let go of their hands when they were each handed an oar. Sunny arranged his oar into its lock. As soon as the other men rowing had their oars arranged, Sunny pulled on his oar and away from _Titanic_ , tears starting to stream down his face.

He didn’t see how Mr. Dagda was ever going to forgive him for this. He knew he’d never be able to forgive himself.

 

Getting back downstairs proved to be harder than getting up them the last time. The ship was not only tilting forward, it was also listing to the side. But Marianne refused to stop. Bog and Dawn needed her.

She was also starting to notice that the lights were definitely looking dimmer. She could also hear the sounds of things sliding off of shelves and crashing to the floor. She had to hurry.

Finally, after what took way too long in Marianne’s opinion, she arrived back at E Deck and began making her way through the corridors. Where was the cabin Roland locked Bog and Dawn in?

She was a few feet from the stairs and had reached an intersection when she decided to hell with it.

“BOG! DAWN!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. She’d scream until her voice was gone if she had to.

Marianne also began banging on doors on her way through. She didn’t think the extra noise couldn’t hurt.

In the cabin, Bog was still working at the screws with the pocket knife. Dawn had found a shaving razor and begun working on one of the other hinges. Suddenly, Dawn cocked her head.

“Do you hear that?” she asked. Bog stopped and strained his ears. He was certain it was Marianne calling his and Dawn’s names.

Dawn immediately dropped the razor and started banging on the door. “MARIANNE! IN HERE!” she started screaming. Bog kept working on the screws.

Marianne could hear the faint sound of Dawn’s cries and banging on a door around another corner. She followed the sound and finally arrived at the cabin.

“Bog! Dawn! I’m here!” Marianne called through the door.

“Thank God! We’re trying to get the hinges off of this door, but it’s taking forever!” Dawn called back through.  

“Do you know what he did with the keys?” Bog called.

“He threw them away,” Marianne answered. Then she looked down at the gun still in her hand, then at the lock on the door. There was no time to try to find the keys at this point, anyway. “But I have an idea. I managed to get his gun from him. I can just shoot the lock off.”

On the other side of the door, Bog and Dawn stopped what they were doing and looked at one another. Dawn looked slightly horrified.

“Marianne, you’ve never used a gun in your life!” Dawn said. “What if it doesn’t work?”

But Marianne was already lining up her shot, putting her back against the wall and sighting down her arm. How hard could it be?

“I’m doing it anyway, so you might as well stand back!”

Bog threw down the knife and pulled Dawn away from the door. “You’re completely mad, you know that?” he called to her as he pulled Dawn to the far side of the cabin and planted himself between her and the door.

“You know, the line between madness and brilliance is often really thin,” Marianne retorted. Truthfully, she was hoping as much as they were that this would work. Her aim lined up, she turned her head away from the door and pulled the trigger.

The gun’s report echoed through the hallway, and Marianne turned back to study the lock. It appeared significantly damaged. She threw her shoulder against the door, putting the full weight of her body behind it.

She only needed to do it twice before the door gave way and she stumbled into the room.

Marianne tossed the gun onto the bed in time for Dawn to nearly bowl her over in a bruisingly-tight hug.  Marianne wrapped her own arms around Dawn.

“I’m sorry! This was all my fault! I’m _so_ sorry!” Dawn gushed. 

“Hey,” Marianne said, lifting Dawn off of her and cupping Dawn’s chin in her hands, “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

Dawn was about to argue when Bog cut in. “What happened to Knight? And where’s your coat?”

“He’s taking a swim,” Marianne answered.

Bog blinked at her. “I have to hear this story, now,” he said.

“There isn’t much to tell. You can probably guess what he wanted, and while he was busy telling me all about it, I grabbed the gun and kicked him into the ocean,” Marianne said, leading them out of the room. Despite everything, Bog still managed to look deeply impressed.

On their way to the stairs, Bog removed his coat and swept it over her shoulders. She opened her mouth to argue, but he immediately stopped her. “Scottish, remember?” he said.

“Huh?” Dawn asked.

“Inside joke,” Marianne explained as she worked her arms into the sleeves and pulled them back.

Then there was no more time for talking as they started working their way up the stairs.

 

It seemed to Marianne like it took them far longer to reach the boat deck than it had taken her and Roland to get to B Deck. It could have been because of the fact that they had two more flights of stairs to climb. Or maybe the way the ship was listing had something to do with it.

Eventually, though, they did reach the boat deck, only to find two things: first, no one they knew was in sight.

Second, all of the lifeboats were gone.

“Where are the lifeboats?!” Dawn cried. Marianne took her hand. It seemed to be all she could do.

Bog began looking around, and then he spotted something forward of the ship.

“Come on, ladies,” he said, grabbing Marianne’s hand. He then quickly led the two of them down the deck towards the bow. Her instincts were screaming at her to turn around and seek higher ground, but she silenced them. She would trust Bog.

As they drew closer, she could see what he was leading them towards. Officers and crewmen were scrambling on the roof of the officers’ quarters to free a collapsible lifeboat. She could also see the ship dipping lower into the ocean. The surface was nearly to the bridge.

A crowd had also gathered, and it became a tense few minutes of waiting as the crew freed the lifeboat and slowly slid it down some oars to the deck. Then more crewmembers had to work to hold the crowd back as their colleagues worked on preparing the boat.

Then water started lapping over the deck. Marianne could hear Dawn gasping next to her as it did.

“Are the falls ready?” one crewman called out.

“There’s no time for that, put her straight in the water!” and officer answered.

People then began rushing to the boat while still more of them immediately gave up and started running aft. Marianne looked back at them, and further on she could see people crowding on the stern.

Then Bog and Dawn were both tugging on her hands. “Come on, Marianne!” Dawn said. The three of them hurried for the lifeboat. Marianne thought it looked like the boat wasn’t quite ready to go, but now there was no time to think about it. The three of them were now ankle-deep in freezing ocean water.

Bog dropped Marianne’s hand and went over to lift Dawn into the lifeboat. Then he picked Marianne up and put her down in the lifeboat. She turned back around to Bog and reached out a hand.

“Come on, Bog, there’s still room!” But Bog didn’t seem to hear her. He was looking around. At the water now swirling around his knees. At the ship, whose lights were starting to glow red.  At the people around them, either climbing into the boat themselves, taking their chances in the ocean, or rushing for the stern. Then he looked back at her, and their eyes met, and at that moment she knew exactly what he was thinking. There was no more time. They needed to launch this boat.

Still, Marianne had started to shake her head. Before she could get words out of her mouth, Bog pulled on her hand and drew her into a deep kiss. She didn’t bother resisting. Instead, she poured everything she wanted to say to him into it.

All too soon, they separated. “I’m sorry,” Bog murmured.

Then he put both hands on the side of the boat and gave it the hardest shove he could. She grabbed at his wrist, and he responded by taking her hand.

Then, several things happened at once.

A cable snapped down into the water very close to where Bog was standing. It was quickly followed by another, and then several more, and then there was the sound of metal groaning and tearing as the first of the four smokestacks crashed to the surface of the ocean.

Fortunately, the smokestack fell the other way. Unfortunately, it generated a large wave that forced the lifeboat away from the ship, tearing Bog’s hand out of her grasp.

That same wave knocked Bog off of his feet, and he was pulled under the surface.

Finally, the ship’s lights blinked, and then went out completely. Marianne never saw if Bog resurfaced.

Marianne didn’t know if she screamed or not. She was only barely aware of Dawn pulling her back into the lifeboat as it floated away from the ship.

Then suddenly, people were swimming for their boat and they were both busy with helping them in.

As Marianne helped pull a man into the lifeboat, there was a thundering tear from the direction of the ship. She looked up in time to see the dark outline of _Titanic_ pulling straight up against the backdrop of stars, and then giving a hard twist to the side, and then finally sinking.

Everyone had stopped long enough to watch, but then broke into action again once the ship was gone.

Time became a blur for Marianne after that. For a while, people swam for their boat. She and Dawn helped in as many as they could. Then they stopped coming, and it barely registered with Marianne that there were probably too many people in the boat. She wasn’t about to make any of them get off, though. In the distance, she could hear others screaming for help. But there was no way to go to them, nothing she could do.

It also barely registered with her that their boat was taking on water. But Marianne couldn’t bring herself to care. They had never found Sunny, and she didn’t see how Bog could have survived being pulled under like he had been. If he had, Marianne was certain he hadn’t tried to swim to their lifeboat.

There truly was nothing they could do now but wait for a ship to rescue them.

Marianne didn’t know at what point it happened, but she pulled Bog’s coat off and wrapped it around both her and Dawn. Dawn pulled Marianne into her arms, and Marianne had started crying silently. Dawn was also crying, she knew. But she was also whispering words of comfort into Marianne’s hair.

As the night wore on, people around them started dying. They were slowly lowered into the ocean as they did. It was also more noticeable that the boat was taking on water. Everyone was forced to stand up, the water nearly to their knees.

Then, as the sun was starting to rise, another lifeboat came by. Somehow, there were very few people in it. As Marianne and Dawn were helped into the new boat, Marianne could make out another ship nearby.

Things finally stopped registering with Marianne altogether when everyone who was still alive was loaded into the new lifeboat. And with the sun now starting to light everything up, it was now a fact.

Bog had not made it to their lifeboat.

Marianne would later find it difficult to remember their boat being brought on board the RMS _Carpathia_.  She would also find it difficult to remember being reunited with Sunny, Stuff, and Brutus the moment they were lifted aboard, how Sunny gratefully threw his arms around both Dawn and Marianne. She certainly couldn’t remember after that, when the four of them led her to one of the cabins that had been opened up for use by the survivors, or Dawn helping her undress and lay her clothes out to dry while the two of them curled up in the bed together, Dawn’s arms wrapped around her as Marianne cried herself to sleep.

The only thing Marianne would remember was thinking she should have told Bog she had fallen in love with him while she’d had the chance.

 

 

 _To_ Californian _, it looked like the mysterious ship had moved on. Her lights weren’t visible anymore. Over on_ Carpathia, _Rostron has his entire crew up and getting his ship ready to receive survivors. They lose touch with_ Titanic, _but they keep steaming ahead. Rostron orders the hot water tanks shut off in an effort to pull every bit of steam he can get._ Carpathia _will reach about 22 knots by the time she reaches_ Titanic’s _last known position at approximately 3:45 AM._

 _Meanwhile, on Collapsible lifeboat “A,” the boat is overloaded with people that swam away from_ Titanic _as she went down and she’s taking on water. Many of the people that made it to boat A died of exposure while waiting to be picked up. Those still alive are forced to stand up in the now knee-deep water. They will be picked up by Fifth Officer Harold Lowe, who organized several lifeboats and left them tied together while he brought Lifeboat #14 back through the site of the sinking to look for survivors. By now,_ Carpathia _has arrived, firing her own distress rockets to alert the survivors that she is there. Lowe will arrive at_ Carpathia _at approximately 7 AM._


	9. Chapter 9

_Meanwhile, the overturned Collapsible lifeboat “B” is still fairly close to_ Titanic _when she sinks. The smokestack that collapsed narrowly missed the boat, but unfortunately crushed anyone swimming for it. Boat B winds up with 30 men clinging to it. Among them are Junior Wireless Operator Bride, who had made it to the boat before_ Titanic _sank but got stuck under it for a little while until he could escape and climb on, and Second Officer Lightoller, who would be the highest ranking officer to survive the sinking._

_When Lightoller arrives at Boat B, water is already lapping over the sides and air is leaking out from the underside.  He immediately takes command of the boat and has everyone stand up and form two rows to help balance the boat out. Right about then he discovers Bride is also on the boat. He asks Bride which ships are coming, and Bride answers back that Carpathia is on her way. Lightoller hopes that this will help keep up the spirits of the men on the boat._

_As the night wears on, the wind begins to pick up, causing the water to become choppy. This is making the survivors’ jobs of staying afloat that much more difficult. Several of the men also succumb and die of exposure and exhaustion. Finally, when the sun starts to rise, the men can make out the string of lifeboats Fifth Officer Lowe left tied together not 800 yards away from them. Lightoller blows on his officer’s whistle to signal them. Lifeboats #4 and #12 come to pick them all up._ Carpathia _arrives not long after that._

 _Lightoller takes command of Boat 12. The boat, however, is now overcrowded, and is making slow progress towards_ Carpathia _as a result. Added to that, the wind is picking up even more. Boat 12 barely limps in to the leeward side of_ Carpathia _by 8:30 AM. All the other lifeboats have arrived, and 12 is the last one. By this time,_ Californian _has learned what happened and come over to help. Captain Lord even offers to take on some of the survivors, but Captain Rostron believes that the survivors have had enough and doesn’t want to subject them to another mid-sea transfer. Twenty minutes later, after sweeping the area and determining that there are no more survivors coming, Rostron turns_ Carpathia _around and heads for New York._

 

 

Roland broke the surface, hacking up sea water. Damn that willful bitch straight to hell! She was lucky he didn’t break any bones in that fall!

The moment he was able to blink his vision clear, he noticed a large white shape above him, drawing closer. He blinked again and realized it was a lifeboat. All he had to do was wait on it to hit the water, and they’d pull him in.

As he treaded water, he kept cursing Marianne. It would serve her right to drown. Had she just done what he asked, he’d be dry and significantly warmer right now. But no, she had to go back to her air-headed sister and horrendously ugly lover. Really, what had she seen in him, anyway?

By the time the lifeboat was in the water and free of its falls, Roland had graduated from spitting out ocean water to spitting out curse words. His swearing was audible enough to earn him several glares from the women in the lifeboat as the crewmen stopped and pulled him aboard. Fortunately he didn’t care what those stuck up harpies thought.

As the lifeboat pulled away from Titanic, Roland got a better look at the ship, the way she was angled in the water and the way her lights dimmed. He didn’t bother to stop the gleeful smile from overtaking his face. It no longer mattered what Marianne saw in Broderic King. It also no longer mattered whether or not Marianne got off the ship alive, and Roland was fairly confident she wouldn’t.

He was already concocting the story he would feed to Dagda Springwood, about how he found Marianne somewhere in Europe. That she was impressed with how far he was willing to go to get her back and forgave him for what he had done and immediately eloped with him. Then, when the Titanic started to sink, how they had gotten separated from Dawn and Marianne went to look for her, and the two of them must have never made it to a lifeboat. All he’d have to do after that would be to act as contrite as he could while he talked Dagda into naming him the heir to his fortune.

Roland’s grin grew wider. He didn’t see how it could fail.

 

Marianne’s nails scratched Bog’s palm as his hand was torn out of her grasp, and he could have sworn he heard her scream his name. He wasn’t given any time to draw in a lung full of air before the wave generated by the collapsing smokestack ripped him off of his feet. Bog smacked into the deck below him, and then even that disappeared as something he couldn’t see tried to pull him further under. It took everything he had to keep his mouth clamped shut and not inhale. It was taking even more than that to not give in to the urge to panic. He was surrounded by frigid water and blackness, and vaguely he wondered how such cold water could burn so much.

Then the force pulling him released him, and he clawed for the surface. When he broke through, he forced down a lungful of equally cold-yet-burning air. Around him, others were thrashing around and screaming. Behind him loomed the now-darkened shape of what remained of Titanic. Bog was still way too close to the ship, and from inside it he could hear crashing and the sounds of tearing metal.

He needed to get away from the ship, and quickly, but where to go? Bog looked around him. He could barely make out the lifeboat he had put Marianne and Dawn in. It was too far away, he’d freeze to death before he reached it.

Bog looked around again, and saw another large white shape, this one much closer. It was probably a lifeboat, but something about it looked wrong. He’d figure that out when he got there, though. He started swimming harder than he ever had before.

While he swam, the sounds coming from the ship seemed to grow worse. The only term he could have used to describe it was “death throes,” and at the moment he didn’t want to go anywhere near that particular subject. He forced the thought out of his mind and focused on swimming for the lifeboat.

As Bog drew closer to it, he realized that the reason the lifeboat looked wrong was because it was capsized. There were also other people already on the back of it, and still more climbing on.

Bog made it to the lifeboat right as Titanic gave a hard twist towards them and finally sank. Everyone who was trying to climb on the lifeboat stopped long enough to watch in stunned silence.

Then a pair of hands wrapped around each of his wrists, and Bog’s first thought was that whoever had just grabbed him was going to throw him back into the water and he prepared to fight them. When he looked up, though, it was Thang’s eyes he met.

“T-thank God,” Thang said. “I w-was worried y-you didn’t m-make it off.” He was soaked head to foot himself and was shivering hard, and he’d put his life belt on at some point.

“H-h-how d-did you wind up—“ Bog started to ask as Thang helped him climb onto the back of the lifeboat.

“They were s-short of crewmen s-so I came to h-help,” Thang answered. Bog was thankfully out of the water now, although it only brought him a marginal amount of comfort. “D-did you ever f-find M-miss Dawn?”

“Aye,” Bog answered as the two of them helped another man up onto the back of the boat. “S-she and M-marianne are i-in a-another lifeboat.”

“T-that’s good,” Thang said. The two of them were then busy helping others onto the boat.

 

A little while later, the boat had all the men it could take, including a bridge officer. And there were more bodies floating by than people swimming for it. Bog could still hear more people screaming in the distance, though. He desperately wished there was something he could do to help them. With the way the wind was picking up, though, he didn’t even think there was much he could do to help himself. He and Thang were sitting as close to one another as they could, their knees drawn up and their arms tucked in close to their bodies, occasionally blowing into their hands to try and warm them.

“We’ve g-got to l-level this b-boat out, gentlem-men,” the officer announced when the boat swayed yet again and water splashed over the side. “W-we’ll have to s-stand up i-if we’re to k-keep her afloat.”

Thang let out an exhausted groan at this. “C-come on, T-thang, y-you heard the o-officer,” Bog gently chided him. He and Thang both worked on getting to their feet.

“I w-wonder wh-what happened t-to the C-captain,” one of the men said.

“When d-down with th-the ship, m-most likely,” said another man.

“No, h-he d-didn’t,” another man answered. “I h-had his b-body in my hands a sh-short time ago, I’ll s-swear it.”

“I l-last saw hi-him on the b-bridge,” another man said from further aft.

“Bride! I-is th-that you?” the officer suddenly cut off the arguing.

“Yes, M-mr. Lightoller,” Bride answered.  

“What sh-ships are on the w-way?” Lightoller asked.

“Erm…the _B-baltic_ , _Olym-mpic_ , a-and _C-carpathia_ , sir,” Bride said. “ _Carpathia_ was c-closest and re-reported she w-was m-making full steam.”

“Sh-she should b-be h-here by dawn, th-then,” Lightoller mused. “W-we o-only need hang on until then, g-gentlemen.”

This only seemed to make everyone feel slightly better. As far as Bog was concerned, they needed to take care of their more immediate problem of staying alive long enough to see that other ship.

 

Bog didn’t know how much time had passed. Officer Lightoller kept directing everyone to leaning one way or the other in an effort to combat the ocean pulling at the boat. Occasionally, they could see the light of a flare off in the distance. Intermittent conversations sprang up among the men, mostly about the first thing they were going to do once they got to the other ship. The consensus seemed to be to find the strongest and warmest drink they could and curl up in the first bed they came across.

Bog agreed with them. Save for the legs of his trousers below the knees, his clothes were dry, if he could call it that. There was a sheen of ice clinging to the fabric. He could feel more ice in his hair. All of the men were in the same state, and unfortunately for a few of those men, it would prove too much. Bog himself had had to help lower one body back into the ocean.

It eventually registered with Bog that Thang, who had been standing next to him and had engaged in the conversations at a couple of points, had grown uncharacteristically quiet. It shouldn’t have been unusual, the other men were talking less in favor of putting their energy towards staying afloat. Bog glanced over to check on him, and noticed that he wasn’t shivering as violently as he had been.

And his eyes were starting to drift shut.

“N-no no no no, Thang,” Bog said, reaching over a numb hand to pop Thang on the cheek. “Y-you k-keep your eyes op-open!”

“Ju-just a f-few minutes,” Thang murmured, his eyes still trying to close.

“Here,” said the man standing directly behind Thang. He had grabbed Thang’s shoulders and was shoving him towards Bog. Bog pulled Thang into his arms while the other men shifted around them to take his place.

“Caref-ful back there!” Lightoller called to them as they moved.

Bog shook Thang and slapped his cheek again. “Thang, come on, y-you can ha-have a n-nap when we’re r-rescued,” he insisted.

Thang looked like he was going to ignore Bog and drop off anyway. “I-I’m s-so tired,” he murmured again.

“I kn-know, man, I know. We a-all are,” Bog told him. “B-but you’ve got t-to st-stay awake. J-just a wh-while longer.”

“I-I’ll try, s-sir,” Thang finally murmured. Bog wrapped his arms around Thang’s smaller frame and started rubbing his arms as an answer.

Rubbing some warmth back into Thang’s blood seemed to have an effect, because a few minutes later, Thang started talking again.

“S-sir, h-h-have y-you ever n-noticed how p-pretty S-stuff is?” Thang asked him. Bog furrowed his brow in confusion. The question seemed to come out of nowhere, and Bog was ready to chalk it up to deliriousness. Then he realized Thang was gazing up at him over the rim of his glasses, waiting for an answer.

“I s-suppose so,” he said. “I’ve n-never r-really thought a-about it.”

“W-well, she is,” Thang said, and then they’d had to stop talking to lean their weight to the right to combat another swell of the ocean.

When the boat leveled out again, Thang continued. “A-and she al-always smells n-nice, too. I w-wonder wh-what kind of p-perfume she wears?”

“I d-don’t know,” Bog answered. He knew Stuff wore perfume, but then again most women he knew did. It wasn’t something he had ever really thought about. Well, no, that wasn’t quite true. The jacket that Dawn Springwood had pulled off of him about a million years ago was returned to him bearing a faint trace of something floral. And then there was Marianne. Whatever it was she used, if she used anything, had made his blood run warm.

“Y-you kn-know, I n-never t-told h-her any of th-that,” Thang said. When Bog didn’t have a response for him, Thang looked up at him again.

“S-sir?”

“Yes, Th-thang?”

“D-do you th-think y-you c-could—y-you know, in case I—“

Bog looked down at him, his eyes narrowed. He knew exactly what Thang was getting at.

“N-no, I couldn’t. I w-won’t t-tell her anything f-for you.”

“B-but sir,” Thang protested.

“You c-can tell h-her yours-self wh-when you see h-her,” Bog argued.

Thang only blinked at him slowly, and then a weak smile spread across his face. “O-on one c-condition, s-sir.”

“A-and wh-what’s th-that?”

“Wh-when we g-get rescued, y-you f-find M-miss Marianne a-and tell her y-you’re in l-love with h-her.”

It was Bog’s turn to blink at Thang. If it would keep Thang alive, he’d agree to anything.

No, that was a lie, and Bog didn’t even have the energy to lie to himself, much less to Thang. He’d agree to tell Marianne he was in love with her because somehow, at some point, it had snuck up on him. He had fallen in love with Marianne Springwood. And she needed to know that.

Despite everything, Bog snorted out a chuckle. Thang, as well as several of the men around them, blinked at him in surprise. “I’ll d-do you one better,” he said. “Wh-when I f-find Marianne, I-I’ll a-ask her to m-marry me.”

This elicited a laugh out of not only Thang, but several of the other men as well.

“W-well, n-now I h-have t-to live. I ha-have t-to hold you t-to th-that,” Thang said. The men laughed again, and Bog joined them that time.

“A w-wedding t-to look f-forward t-to on our r-rescue ship, then?” one of the men joked.

“N-not a ch-chance,” Thang answered. “H-his m-mother would k-kill him if h-he got m-married and sh-she wasn’t th-there to s-see it.” The men laughed, and this time Bog groaned.

 

More time had passed, and the men had all settled into silence. It had become more imperative that they keep that boat above the water than chat with one another. Bog kept one arm around Thang, and knew he was holding up his end of their bargain by the ragged rise and fall of his chest. The wind was getting stronger and the sea more insistent, and now Bog had his other hand on the shoulder of the man next to him. Someone else’s hand was braced on one of his shoulders.

The good news was, Bog supposed, that the _Carpathia_ had finally arrived. But she was off in the distance, and everyone was busy trying to figure out how to hold out until someone saw them. Most of the men looked very much dead on their feet. Water was also hitting them in the knees and spraying painfully into their faces. Bog had actually caught himself thinking that Thang’s earlier idea of a nap didn’t sound so bad. He couldn’t sleep, though. He had to see Marianne first.

Then, as sunlight was finally cutting across the sky, someone spotted something not far away.

“A-are th-those boats?” one of the men asked. This drew everyone’s attention in that direction. Sure enough, there were a few lifeboats there, much closer to them than the _Carpathia_ was. Lightoller whipped out his whistle and started blowing on it.

A few minutes later, two of the boats were headed their way. As soon as they arrived, the men began hopping over into them. Bog handed Thang over into one of the boats, and then jumped in after him. When everyone was off of the overturned boat, Lightoller himself hopped in, assumed command of their boat, and directed it straight for _Carpathia_.

Getting to _Carpathia_ proved to be its own tension-filled endeavor. There were now too many people in the boat, so it was moving slowly. The wind hadn’t abated, and if anything was getting stronger, as was the ocean. When they were close to _Carpathia_ , there was a moment when the lifeboat was nearly flipped over with a sudden wave. Fortunately, the lifeboat had managed to maneuver into the leeward side of the ship before it could.

Bog barely remembered anything after that, he was so exhausted. Thang had been helped up the rope latter leading up to the companionway, and Bog had been right behind him. Thang had passed out the moment he was inside the ship, and Bog and a crewman half-carried, half-dragged him towards one of the dining saloons that had been converted into an infirmary. The last thing Bog was aware of was handing Thang over to the crewman while he himself passed out in the nearest bed.

 

Bog had no idea how long he had been asleep. It could have been hours or days for all he knew. As he struggled to sit up, he realized that someone had undressed him and wrapped him up tightly in a couple of blankets.

Suddenly, a nurse was there, propping another pillow behind him and pressing a cup of water into his hand.

“Easy, now,” she advised. “Drink this slowly. I’m going to go get the doctor.”

“Wait,” he said, his voice coming out in a dry scratch. That was when he became aware of how dry his throat was. The nurse turned back to him.

“H-how long—?” he rasped.

“You’ve been asleep for nearly a full day, dear,” the nurse answered kindly. Bog stared at her in disbelief. “I’ll be back in a moment with the doctor and something warm for you to drink.” And then she was gone before he could ask her anything else.

While he waited on her return, he sipped his water and looked around him. Thang was bundled up and lying in the next bed over, still sound asleep. His glasses had been removed and were sitting on one of two chairs between their beds, along with his neatly-folded clothes. Bog’s own clothing was sitting in the chair closest to him, also cleaned and folded.

Right then the nurse returned. With her was the doctor and a stewardess pushing a cart laden with a tea service. The nurse took his now-empty cup from him and set to work preparing him a cup of tea.

“How are you feeling, Mr…?” the doctor prompted, pulling a stethoscope out and putting it on.

“Broderic King,” he answered. “And a bit better.”

“That’s good to hear,” he said as he pressed the other end of the stethoscope to Bog’s chest.

“How is he?” Bog asked, indicating Thang.

“A little worse off than you, I’m afraid. You were both suffering from hypothermia, only his case was more severe. And he may have frostbite,” the doctor answered. Then he grew curious. “Is he a friend of yours?”

“Theodore Norwood. He’s my valet and one of my personal assistants,” Bog said. “And yes, he’s my friend, as well.” The doctor nodded in understanding.

“Well, Mr. Norwood stands a good chance of making a full recovery. All he needs is some rest, as do you,” the doctor said. The nurse was standing behind him with a cup of tea ready. The doctor took the cup and passed it to Bog, who immediately took a long drink of it. There was honey and lemon in it, as well as something else. “And while I’d release you, I’m afraid there’s nowhere else on the ship to go. Although personally, I’d rather you stayed here for a while anyway. There’s still a chance you could become ill.”

Bog nodded in resignation. Besides, whatever else the nurse had put in the tea was doing its job. His limbs were starting to feel heavy.

“One more thing before you go, doctor,” Bog said. “Do you happen to know where Marianne Springwood is?”

The doctor narrowed his eyes in thought, and then looked to the nurse, who didn’t seem to recognize the name any more than he did. She shook her head at him, and the doctor turned back to Bog.

“I’m afraid I don’t know who that is. All I can tell you is that we picked up everyone from your ship, so if she was on one of the lifeboats, then she’s definitely on the ship.”

That was the best news Bog had heard in a while. “Thank you, doctor.” He handed his empty teacup back to the nurse and settled back down on the pillows as they left.

What he really wanted to do was get out of this bed and go find Marianne. It was very likely she thought he was dead by now. But the doctor was right, he needed to get some rest. The nurse had slipped some medicine in his tea, and he was starting to feel it. He’d only pass out a few feet from the doorway if he got up now.

Bog decided to give in to the medicine tugging at his mind and drifted off to sleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this chapter happened fast. It's all thanks to a night off of work and having nothing but time. I hope this makes up for the pain and inconvenience I caused all of you with the last chapter. 
> 
> Now, to reunite these two idiots...


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The author would like to inform the establishment that neither she nor Marianne bear any responsibility towards the future state of Roland's ability to perform sexually, nor do they bear any responsibility towards Roland's future ability to sire children. The author and Marianne would both like to make the establishment aware of the fact that Roland brought this on himself.

April 16, 1912

 _On board_ Carpathia _, the passengers have been lending a hand. Captain Rostron had had all three dining halls converted into infirmaries, and_ Carpathia’s _library, lounge, and smoking rooms all turned into dormitories. Despite this, many passengers are even going so far as to give up their staterooms and cabins in addition to sharing their personal belongings such as clothing and toiletries._

 _Captain Rostron has also decided that his wireless room will be used for official communications only. The only thing he’s allowing to be sent out are the names of the survivors so the families of those lost in the sinking can be notified. As such, no one on land will know any of the details behind what happened until_ Carpathia _arrives in New York and both the American and British governments begin their investigations. Wireless Operator Bride, despite the fact that he’s being treated for frostbite, insists on being put to work in the wireless room. Wireless Operator Cottam, who has not had any rest since he first received_ Titanic’s _distress call, is very much in need of one and more than welcomes the assistance._

 

Dawn was growing more and more worried about Marianne by the hour now. Since they were brought aboard, Marianne had barely spoken two words to anyone and had had maybe a few bites of food between the couple of meals that had been brought to her. And she hadn’t left their cabin once.

Initially, Dawn couldn’t blame her for wanting to sleep. They were so very exhausted when they arrived and were reunited with Sunny (who had thrown his arms around the both of them in sheer relief and spent an entire twenty minutes apologizing for leaving the ship without them, and Dawn had spent that same twenty minutes assuring him that it was alright and they didn’t blame him) and Stuff and Brutus (who Dawn had had to be the one to explain what had happened to Bog, to which they both stared at her in stunned disbelief before Stuff had started crying and Brutus led her off somewhere a little less public to comfort her)and then shown to a cabin, they had both passed out almost the moment they were in the bed. The last thing Dawn had remembered was holding Marianne while she cried.

When she had awoken a few hours later, it was mid-afternoon. Her clothing was dry by then, and she had wanted to go and find Sunny. So she had gotten dressed and left the cabin in search of him. Marianne hadn’t stirred once. While she was out, she met an elderly couple who offered to share with her anything she might need until they reached New York. When Dawn returned to her and Marianne’s cabin that evening, she had two of the lady’s spare nightgowns as well as spare toothbrushes and a hairbrush and was accompanied by a steward bearing a tray of food for Marianne. But if Marianne had moved at all, it was to turn onto her other side. Dawn didn’t think she had even gotten out of bed. Not wanting to disturb her, Dawn had left everything and returned to the promenade where Sunny, Stuff and Brutus were waiting for her to join them for dinner.

The three of them had walked Dawn back to her cabin later that night before going to find their beds in the lounge-turned-dormitory. Stuff had offered to stay with them, but Dawn assured her they would be fine. Besides, there was only one bed, and the sofa in the room didn’t look terribly comfortable for sleeping on, and she was most certainly not going to make her sleep on the floor. When they departed and Dawn entered the cabin, this time there was only the most minimal of signs Marianne had gotten up. On her dinner tray, the spoon was coated in soup, although the bowl still looked full, and a single bite of bread had disappeared. Dawn supposed it was a good thing Marianne had at least _tried_ to eat.

There were also fresh tears coating Marianne’s cheeks, even though she was obviously asleep. Nothing else in the room had been touched. Dawn had put on one of the nightgowns and climbed back into the bed.

It was early that morning when Dawn woke up from a fitful sleep. She got out of bed and dressed, and again, Marianne didn’t stir. Dawn debated with herself that time on making Marianne get up. Ultimately, she wouldn’t make Marianne do anything she didn’t want to do, and Dawn concluded that the best thing she could do for her sister was to leave her alone. She only returned to their cabin again to have the other tray cleared away and breakfast brought in.

Now it was lunch time, and Dawn was eating with Sunny, Stuff, and Brutus again. And Dawn was truly starting to worry, because Marianne hadn’t touched her breakfast at all when Dawn had gone to check on her.

“And she hasn’t said anything at all?” Stuff asked.

“Nothing,” Dawn confirmed. “I’m beginning to wonder if I shouldn’t go find a doctor.”

Everyone gave her sympathetic looks; it seemed to be the only thing they could say.

“She just needs time,” Sunny said after a moment of silence. “Remember how fast she recovered from what Roland put her through?”

“This is different, though,” Dawn said. “Bog didn’t betray her trust and he didn’t want her for our father’s money.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Stuff said, “what exactly _did_ Roland Knight do to her?”

Sunny and Dawn looked over at each other for a moment before Dawn decided to tell her the story.

“ _Please_ don’t tell anyone else,” Dawn begged when she was finished. Stuff and Brutus, who had grown equal parts confused and disgusted while Dawn told them what happened, only nodded their agreement.

“And he really said ‘all men do it’?” Stuff asked.

“Then what does he suppose that makes the rest of us?” Brutus muttered.

“Who knows what really went on in his mind?” Sunny said.

“Nothing good, especially if he was willing to leave Bog and I for dead on a sinking ship,” Dawn answered. She had already told them what had happened the night before on the _Titanic_.

“Speaking of BK,” Stuff said, deciding a change of subject was in order, “I really don’t think she’s going to take the news of his death very well.” The mood over their table instantly grew even more somber.

“Mr. King was an only child, right?” Sunny asked.

“Yeah,” Brutus said.

“What about Mr. Norwood?” Dawn asked. “Did you ever find out if he ever made it to a lifeboat?”

Stuff only seemed to get even sadder. Brutus put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“No,” he answered. “The crew is still getting lists of survivors together, even they don’t completely know who is still alive and who isn’t.”

Dawn swallowed around the tightness in her throat. “I’m going to make sure everyone knows they died as heroes,” she announced. “It seems like the least I can do for them.” Brutus and Stuff gave her half-hearted smiles and Sunny took one of her hands and squeezed it.

 

Dawn let out a quiet sigh and leaned into Sunny’s shoulder as the two of them made their way around the promenade hand in hand. Dawn didn’t quite know when she had taken his hand, but it didn’t seem to matter. She welcomed the comfort.

“She’s going to be okay,” Sunny said. He did always seem to know what she was thinking. “Maybe not right now, but eventually. Then she’ll be back to shocking people and driving your father crazy.”

“And hovering over me,” Dawn added with a half-hearted smile.

“Exactly,” Sunny said. “And just remember that I’m here for both of you.”

At that, Dawn had a thought that made her stop in her tracks. Sunny, who had still been holding her hand, was pulled to a stop as well.

“Dawn? What’s wrong?” Sunny asked. Dawn stared at him for a full two seconds, and then threw her arms around his shoulders and she hugged him as hard as she could. After a moment’s hesitation, Sunny’s arms came up around her.

What Dawn wanted to say was _What’s wrong is what would I have done if you had died too?_  or to just start crying. Instead,

“I love you.”

The both of them froze, then slowly separated to look one another in the eyes. Sunny looked equal parts astonished, confused, scared, and hopeful.

“I—you—me?” Sunny managed.

Dawn blinked, realizing what she had just said. Then she realized it was true. She bit her lip and smiled at him, and then nodded. She didn’t think she had ever seen Sunny look so relieved. He smiled back at her, and then nothing more needed to be said.

They pulled one another into a long kiss.

 

It was evening when Bog woke up again. His limbs still felt somewhat weighed down by the medicine in his system and his throat still felt sore, but he felt better than he had earlier. He scrubbed at his eyes with one hand while he pushed himself into a sitting position with the other.

“Oh, you’re awake!” Thang said from the bed next to him.

Bog looked over to Thang’s bed to see him sitting propped against several pillows with a tray of food in his lap he was eating voraciously from.

“When did you wake up?” Bog asked him.

“About 45 minutes ago, or maybe it was an hour,” Thang said around a mouthful of bread. “I don’t remember sleeping so much in my life. And the doctor says he doesn’t want me to leave yet.”

Before Bog could ask Thang anything else, the doctor appeared. “He’s right, I don’t want him leaving until he’s had more rest,” he said as he put his stethoscope to Bog’s chest to listen to his heart and lungs. “You, on the other hand, are free to wander the ship at your leisure as soon as you’ve eaten.” And here, the doctor motioned to a steward, who immediately came over with a tray of food for Bog. The smell of the stew and bread reminded Bog that he hadn’t had anything to eat in nearly two days.

“I’ll have some more of that, if you don’t mind,” Thang said to the steward as soon as he was finished setting Bog’s tray in front of him.

“Mr. Norwood, you’ve already had three bowls,” the doctor argued.

Bog snorted. “Don’t let his size fool you. He’s a bottomless pit. If he’s still eating, then that means he’s fine.”

Thang smiled proudly. The doctor only rolled his eyes, shook his head, and left them to their meals.

The two of them ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. While they did, Bog took a look around the room. He recognized some of the men in some of the other beds as having been on the lifeboat with him. They were either asleep themselves or being attended by friends or family members.

Then Thang cleared his throat. “Sir?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t think I thanked you.”

“For?” Bog prompted, looking over at him.

“You kept me alive on that boat,” Thang said. 

“Well, you saved my life by pulling me on to it. I think we’re even,” Bog said.

“Yeah, but if you hadn’t been there, I might have given up,” Thang explained. “So, thank you.”

Bog blinked and he could feel his cheeks warming up. “Umm…uhh…you’re welcome…I guess…,” he settled on. It didn’t seem to be the correct thing to say as far as he was concerned, but he honestly didn’t know what else one _did_ say in this situation.

“That being said,” Thang went on, “I believe you and I had an agreement?”

Bog snorted, and then started laughing. And felt like it was the first time in a really long time he had truly done so. God, did it feel good.

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten. In fact, I had every intention of looking for everyone as soon as I could get up,” Bog said. Thang smiled around a mouthful of bread, and the two of them returned to their food.

Twenty minutes later, Bog had finished eating, and the steward appeared to take his tray.

“Excuse me,” Bog asked him, “where are the other survivors staying?”

“Well, there’s the smoking room, the library, and the lounge. And others were given the use of cabins,” the steward answered. “If you’re looking for a particular person, however, I could make inquiries to the crew. They’re still compiling a manifest of the survivors from your ship.”

Bog considered this for a moment. “Thank you, but I don’t want to bother them with something like this,” he said.

The steward nodded. “As you wish, sir. Will you be requiring anything else?”

“No, thank you,” Bog answered. The steward left, and Bog stood up and dressed.

“Good luck, sir,” Thang said as Bog was lacing up his boots.

Bog shot him a smile. “Just be ready to keep up your end of the deal. I fully intend to hold up mine.” He grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it as he was leaving the dining hall.

 

Thirty minutes later, Bog had found his way to the smoking room. No one he knew was staying in there. He had just come from the library a few minutes ago with the same result, and now he was looking for the lounge. He was also starting to think he might be lost.

Bog was debating whether to just return to the dining hall and wait for tomorrow or keep looking when he walked into a smaller female figure while rounding a corner.

“I’m so sorry! I—“

“No no, it’s alright, I wasn’t—Oh. My. God. BK?!”

Bog and Stuff had both gone silent for a full five seconds when they realized that they’d run into one another. Brutus was standing behind Stuff, his eyes wide and jaw hanging open.

Then Stuff’s arms were around Bog and squeezing so hard he could barely breathe. “You’re alive!” she cried, her voice slightly muffled by his clothes.

“OW! Yes, I’m fine, now let go!” Bog said, shoving on her shoulders.

“But—but how?” Brutus stuttered.

“Yeah, you have to tell us about it!” Stuff said, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him down the hall.

“Wait! I need to go find—“ Bog argued, trying to tug his hand back, but Stuff’s grip was firm.

“Miss Marianne, yeah, I figured. But trust me, she isn’t going anywhere,” Stuff said. Bog realized they were taking him to the lounge he had been in search of, and naturally it hadn’t actually been that far away from where he had been. He had been headed in the opposite direction from it.

Knowing Stuff the way he did, she wouldn’t tell him how to find Marianne until she heard the story of how he survived. He had no choice but to go with her.

It was nearly another hour before Bog finished his story and then listened to Stuff and Brutus’s. Stuff had seated them all around a table in the lounge and ordered tea. They’d had to talk quietly since most of the other people staying in the room were trying to sleep. Bog had been relieved to hear that Sunny was unharmed as well.

 “So you and Thang are both okay?” Stuff asked one more time.

“Yeah. The doctor doesn’t want him getting out of bed yet,” Bog confirmed.

“I should have gone with you,” Brutus said. “I could have broken that sleazy little piss-ant in half or something, and none of that would have happened.”

“Or he would have shot you, and you wouldn’t be sitting here with us right now,” Bog pointed out.

“Point taken,” Brutus said.

“How are Dawn and Marianne?” Bog asked.

Brutus and Stuff exchanged a glance, and then Stuff drew in a deep breath before answering. “Well, Miss Dawn is fine. According to her, however, Miss Marianne is not.”

“Yeah. She says Miss Marianne hasn’t left her bed since coming aboard, much less their cabin,” Brutus said. “And last we heard, she’s barely eaten.”

Bog felt a stab of guilt lance through him. He’d kept her waiting long enough, and middle of the night be damned, he was going to look for her. He set his teacup down and stood up.

“I’m going to find her,” he announced. “By the way, Stuff, Thang really needs to talk to you.”

Stuff looked up at him, then put down her cup and hurried out of the lounge without another word.

As Bog and Brutus watched her go, Brutus told Bog where Dawn and Marianne’s cabin was.

Bog glanced at him. “Thank you,” he said as he followed Stuff.

 

Marianne could still feel the crushing weight of grief as she drifted out of sleep. She was very nearly tempted to give in to it again. But then she had to argue with herself: what would that accomplish? It wouldn’t change what had happened and it certainly wouldn’t bring him back.

Her eyes felt gritty and she scrubbed at them with a fist. She needed to get out of this bed. Hell, she needed to get out of this room. Fresh air would do her good. She should probably also eat something. When was the last time she had eaten? She only had a vague memory of food having been left for her at one point that she’d managed to take a few bites of, and then had promptly lost her appetite and went back to sleep. Before that? That had been...

…She’d try to eat later, then. Fresh air first.

There was a single lamp still on in the cabin. Marianne had no idea what day it even was. For that matter, she didn’t even know what time it was.

As she was looking around for a clock, her eyes fell on the one sofa in the room. Lying on it, sound asleep, were Sunny and Dawn. Dawn was pillowed on Sunny’s chest and he had both arms wrapped around her. Marianne managed a half-hearted smile. It was about time.

Moving as quietly as possible, Marianne pulled on her clothes. As she grabbed her boots, she noticed it. Long and black and broad-shouldered. An image flashed through her mind of him hurriedly pulling it around her shoulders and helping her pull the sleeves up. Marianne slowly picked the coat up. His mother should have this back. But until then…

Marianne put on her boots and then shrugged into the coat. As she was leaving the room, she finally found the clock. It was nearly midnight. Combing her fingers through her tangled hair, she closed the door softly behind her and headed in the direction she thought the promenade was in.

 

The knocking on the door of the cabin pulled Dawn out of a rather comfortable sleep. Sunny stirred under her; it seemed the noise woke him up too. The knocking repeated itself as Dawn climbed over Sunny to get it before it woke Marianne up as well. She couldn’t imagine who it would be at this time of the night. Unless it was Stuff or Brutus wondering why Sunny hadn’t come to the lounge.

So she was not at all prepared when she opened the door to see Bog standing there.

“Bog!” she gasped sharply, both hands flying to her mouth and her eyes going wide.

“You’re—you’re alive--!” she could hear Sunny murmuring from behind her as she threw herself around Bog. His arms came up around her shoulders in response.

“How!? We both saw you—“ Dawn started, but Bog cut her off.

“I promise I’ll explain later, but right now, I need to talk to your sister,” Bog said.

Dawn pulled away from him grinning brightly and blinking back tears. “Of course!” She turned towards the bed. “Marianne, wake up! You’ll never guess—“

The bed, however, was empty.

Her smile dissolved into confusion. “I swear she was just here,” she said, looking around as if Marianne could be anywhere else in the small cabin.

“Her clothes are gone, too,” Sunny pointed out.

“I never heard her leave,” Dawn said.

“Neither did I. I’ll go look for her,” Sunny said, starting for the door.

“No, _I’ll_ go look for her. You two go back to sleep,” Bog said, stopping Sunny.

Dawn studied him for a second, and then smiled. “Good luck!” she said. Bog only smiled at her and left.

 

Marianne took a deep inhale of cool air as she made her way slowly down the empty promenade. As she had guessed, it was devoid of people at this time of the night. The only other people who would be awake would be the crew. She had already walked by a couple of crewmen, who had given her nothing more than polite nods as they went about their business.

 She had tried going to the boat deck, only to find it crowded with both _Titanic’s_ lifeboats as well as those belonging to _Carpathia_. Not wanting to find herself tripping over something and getting hurt, she settled for the more spacious promenade right below it. It wasn’t as cold as it had been That Night, but there was a chill to the air that seemed more suited to an April night. Marianne pulled Bog’s coat a little more tightly around herself and resettled her fists back under her arms.

Images from That Night began flashing through her mind as she walked. She had started to force them away, but then changed her mind. She would have to deal with everything that happened sooner or later. Besides, she had spent enough time avoiding it all.

Surprisingly, though, the memories that began running through her mind weren’t the ones she thought they’d be. It was probably because, somehow, after everything, his scent was still clinging to the coat. The warm, deep blue of his eyes. The way his mouth cocked up in that adorably crooked smile. The timbre and lilt of his voice. The feel of his arms around her. The way his lips felt against hers, how his tongue stroked against hers.

Marianne had been so lost to her memories that had she been paying attention, she would have had ample warning of the male figure in her path. As it was, though, she didn’t see him until she nearly ran into him.

“Oh, I’m so s—“ but she immediately halted her apology when she saw who it was.

Then her face twisted in disgust. “ _You_.”

“Well, hello there, darlin’.”

“Go _away_ , Roland. I’m not in the mood,” Marianne snapped. She shoved past him and continued her walk.  

“Come on, Marianne, seriously? After everything that’s happened, you’re still gonna be like that?” Roland said as he fell in beside her.

Marianne glared. “Yes,” she hissed.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Roland said in disappointment. Marianne tried to pick up her pace in response, but Roland only matched it.

“Aren’t you even going to ask if I’m okay? Or how I survived?”

Marianne narrowed her eyes and rounded on him. “I don’t care how you survived,” she snarled. “And frankly, I wish you had frozen to death. Now _leave me alone_.” With that, she turned around and kept walking.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Roland said, and it was all the warning Marianne got before he grabbed her by the shoulder and slammed her against the nearby wall.

Marianne yelped in surprise. When she realized what had just happened, her hands shot out to shove against him. However, he grabbed her wrists and pinned both of her arms above her head with one hand. She started struggling against him.

“ _Roland, what the hell do you think you’re--?!_ ” Marianne shrieked out.

“Now, sweetheart, you don’t want to wake up the whole ship, do you?” he chided as his free hand pulled her coat open. Marianne kept struggling.

“ _LET GO OF ME!!_ ” Marianne screamed.

“Unfortunately, this seems to be the only way I’ll be able to convince you to marry me,” Roland said as he worked one knee between her legs started tugging her skirt up.

Something inside Marianne snapped right then and red bled across her vision. For a second she stopped struggling, but it was a second long enough to make note of the fact that him having one leg between hers meant that one of her legs was also between his. Her weight shifted to the other leg, and that was all the warning Roland got. An enraged scream erupted from Marianne as she brought her knee up with everything she had to connect as hard as it could with Roland’s groin.

Roland’s hands immediately left her arms as he fell back a step to double over and clutch at himself. The instant he did, the heel of Marianne’s hand crashed into Roland’s nose, and she was pretty sure she felt bone crunching.

Before gravity could finish pulling Roland down to the deck, three crewmen plowed into him out of seemingly nowhere and wrestled him down. His arms were wrenched painfully behind him.

“Are you alright, miss?” one of the crewmen asked her. She could hear feet running towards them; more crewmen were on the way.

Marianne nodded and slumped back against the wall, her rage ebbing away. She thought she could hear another one of the crewmen say he saw everything that happened, but with the sudden buzzing in her ears, she couldn’t be sure. Not bothering to stay and watch Roland be hauled away, Marianne turned away from all of them and ran.

 

Bog had just arrived on the promenade when a woman’s enraged screaming tore through the night. It had to be Marianne, he hadn’t seen any other passengers for a while now. Bog rushed towards the sound.

When he arrived, several crewmen were grouped around another man that two of them were still pulling to his feet.

“…Saw him trying to accost the lady, sir,” one crewman was saying to another.

“We came to help, but she fought him off on her own. Proper hellcat, that one,” another one said admiringly.

Bog looked further down the deck to the smaller figure retreating towards the aft section of the ship. The split-second glimpse of her he got before she disappeared through a doorway affirmed that it was in fact Marianne.

Then he looked back to the crewmen. They had finished pulling the other man to his feet. The man happened to look up then, and their eyes met.

Bog supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised to see that it was Roland Knight. But if he was surprised, Knight looked even more so. Or at least as surprised as he could look with blood gushing from his nose and the rest of his face twisted with pain.

Bog narrowed his eyes at Knight.

“Someone should go see to the lady,” one of the crewmen said.

“I’ll go,” Bog announced, not taking his eyes off of Knight. The crewmen all looked up at him. “I know her, I’ll attend to her.”

The most senior of the crewmen, who appeared to Bog to be an officer, nodded at him. “Take him to the Master-At-Arms’ office, have a doctor see to him there,” he told the men. Knight was half-walked, half-dragged through the nearest door and out of sight.

“We’ll need the lady to come down and make a statement,” the officer said to Bog. “As soon as she’s able, of course.”

“I’ll let her know,” Bog said, and the officer turned to follow his men. Bog watched him go, and then hurried in the direction Marianne had gone.

 

The railing separating _Carpathia’s_ stern from the Atlantic Ocean below it was the only reason Marianne was forced to stop running. Tears were already streaming down her face and she wanted to scream again. _How was this fair?!_ Why did Roland get to survive and not Bog?!

Then she wanted to throw up. To make matters worse, he had _dared_ to put his hands on—He somehow actually _thought_ —

Marianne had to force the thought away. She simply couldn’t process it right now. So rather than screaming or vomiting, she slumped down over the railing, buried her face in her hands, and started sobbing.

She never heard the footsteps approaching behind her. She should have been startled by the hand that landed on her shoulder, but she wasn’t. She just couldn’t bring herself to even care right now.

“Go away,” she rasped out, shrugging the hand off.

After a second, its owner decided they wouldn’t be deterred. The hand grabbed at her shoulder again, this time trying to turn her around. She could feel her anger coming back.

“ _I said LEAVE ME ALONE!!_ ” she shrieked as she swiveled around, her fist swinging up blindly.

The only thing her fist connected with was the palm of a much larger hand that had come up to catch it.

It took her a full five seconds to register the deep blue eyes she was also staring angrily into.

No.

She was dreaming. She had to be.

He released her hand, and her anger vanished.

If she was dreaming, then her mind was playing a _really_ cruel trick on her.

“Marianne?” he said cautiously, and somehow it sounded really far away.

Her hand balled back up into a fist, and before she could reconsider or even stop herself, her fist crashed into his cheek.

Bog stumbled back and grabbed at his jaw, a stream of curse words erupting from his mouth. Pain lanced from her knuckles and up her arm. Nope, she wasn’t dreaming. He was really there.

“BOG!!” Marianne cried as she nearly sent the both of them down to the deck when she launched herself at him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her legs wound around his waist. Bog stumbled again, but managed to keep his balance. His arms came up around her, pulling her as close as he could get her.

She began laughing and crying, and he started pressing kisses into her hair and murmuring words to her. It was a full minute before she was able to calm down enough to decipher any of them.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured into her hair.

“I swear I’ll _never_ put you through anything like that _ever_ again,” he said as he pressed kisses to her temple.

But then he said the words that made her not care about anything else he was saying, the words that made her tears finally stop.

“I love you. God, do I love you so much.”

Marianne started laughing harder and kissing her way up his throat and jaw until she reached his lips.

“I love you too,” she said against his lips.

When they parted, one of his hands came up to caress her cheek, his thumb wiping away the remnants of tears.

“How?” Marianne asked, looking him in the eyes. God but could she stare at them forever…

Bog smiled at her. “Now that’s one hell of a story,” he said.

“I don’t know about you, but I’ve got plenty of time to hear it,” Marianne said.

“Alright, then,” he chuckled. But then he paused to consider something.

“But first, I have something to ask you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three guesses as to how Marianne answered, and the first two don't count!
> 
> One more chapter to go!


	11. Epilogue

_On April 18, 1912 at 9:25 PM,_ Carpathia _arrives in New York City. Despite the rain falling, 50,000 people, among them members of the press, are crowded around the docks and Battery Park to watch her arrival. Before pulling into her own pier, Captain Rostron has her first go to Pier 54, where_ Titanic _was meant to be docked. There, he has_ Titanic’s _lifeboats dropped off. He felt White Star Line should have them back. Almost immediately, the lifeboats are swarmed by treasure hunters, who pick them clean of anything they could remove. Workmen also begin sanding_ Titanic’s _name off the sides of the lifeboats._ Carpathia _then continues on to her own dock so_ Titanic’s _survivors can disembark._

 _For the three days from the time_ Carpathia _picked up_ Titanic’s _survivors to the time she arrived in New York, Captain Rostron had ordered his wireless room to official traffic only. This meant that back on land, news offices had only the most minimal of information to publish and for that three days, there was a lot of speculation on what had happened and who was still alive. When_ Carpathia _arrives, some reporters have bribed their way onto the pilot boat guiding her in in the hopes of being able to interview either Captain Rostron or a member of the crew. Captain Rostron, however, flatly refuses to speak with any of them. When the survivors disembark, only a few of them stop to speak with reporters about what happened. The rest of them leave for relatives’ houses or the local shelters that have been set up. The wealthiest among them have hired private trains to take them home._

_In the weeks following, ships are dispatched from the American and Canadian coasts to recover any bodies they can find. Between the ships hired to do so and privately-owned fishing boats, 330 bodies from the Titanic disaster will be recovered. Today, over 100 of them are interred at Fairview Lawn Cemetery in Halifax, Nova Scotia._

_On April 19th, the United States Senate begins an investigation into the circumstances of the sinking that won’t end until May 25th. The British Board of Trade also starts an investigation of their own on May 2nd that will end on July 3rd. The investigations conclude that no one was at fault for the sinking. As a result of the_ Titanic _disaster, regulations were immediately changed surrounding the number of lifeboats a ship was required to carry. All ships now had to have enough lifeboats for every passenger and crewmember aboard. In the years that followed, the International Ice Patrol was also founded, and thanks to that, ice has not been responsible for another ship sinking._

 

_~Two weeks later, Washington, DC~_

Marianne’s eyes slowly slid open from her first truly proper night’s sleep in weeks. Her gaze slid around the hotel room, dimly lit by the grayish light of pre-dawn, to arrive at the windows. The horizon was tinged slightly pink, indicating the rising sun. She squeezed her eyes back shut with an inaudible groan in her throat. Why was she awake at this hour? She felt like she should still be asleep after last night and the trying day that had come before it.

She, Bog, Dawn, Sunny, Stuff, Thang, and Brutus had all been called to testify before the United States Senate on the _Titanic’s_ sinking, which meant a trip to Washington, DC for all of them. None of them had been particularly keen to relive That Night, as Marianne had taken to calling it. But she supposed it would have to happen sooner or later. With as many people that had died, of course they would want to know what happened. Marianne personally wished they had chosen to wait another week or two before they started their inquiries. So many people were mourning someone, after all.

The press had also been persistent in wanting to know what had happened since the moment they had arrived in New York, and Marianne started replaying that night in her mind.

 _When word began going around that they_ _were nearing New York, they had all been gathered around a table in the lounge. Despite the fact that it was raining, Dawn had wanted to go out on the promenade. Everyone else was reluctant about doing that. Since Thang had been released by the doctor the day before, Marianne had noticed that he had balked any time someone suggested going outside. There was also a chill in the air, and Bog had argued that he had had enough of being cold and wet for one lifetime, thank you very much._

_In the end, Sunny had taken her by the hand and the two of them went out there. The rest of them wound up following, having no real excuse to stay inside. They’d be leaving soon, anyway._

Carpathia _arrived in the harbor and made one stop first. It had been a somber affair, watching the crew lower each one of_ Titanic’s _lifeboats down to the harbor and rowing them to the dock. Then, as the tugboat was guiding_ Carpathia _to her own dock, Stuff had noticed something._

 _“Are those_ reporters _?” she had asked, her face twisting in disgust. Marianne looked down towards the boat, and sure enough, several newspaper reporters were milling around on the deck of the boat and shouting questions up to the people on_ Carpathia’s _lower decks. Flashes of light from the docks ahead of them told Marianne there were even more waiting on land._

_“Jesus, you’d think they’d have the decency to back off for a little while,” Bog had commented._

_“I for one don’t feel like talking to them,” Dawn had announced._

_Marianne had arched an eyebrow at that. “_ You _don’t feel like talking to reporters?” she asked in disbelief._

_Dawn looked back at her with a glare. “All I want to do is go home,” she said. Marianne couldn’t blame her for her crankiness. After everything they had been through, Marianne decided that even her normally bright and sweet sister deserved to vent her bad mood. So Marianne had put an arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her forehead._

_When the ship finally docked and they were allowed to leave, Marianne and Bog made sure the rest of their group left ahead of them. Dawn and Sunny had gone first, holding hands. Marianne suspected Sunny wasn’t holding her hand just because he wanted to, though. Dawn had almost taken off running out of the companionway, and it was only because Sunny kept a firm grip on her hand and refused to let her that she didn’t. Thang, Stuff, and Brutus went out behind them. Thang had a death grip on Stuff’s hand and the sleeve of Brutus’s jacket. Marianne hoped he wasn’t developing a fear of the water. Then she and Bog had followed behind them hand in hand._

_As they had all feared, reporters had started trying to swarm them. Police officers and dock workers were on hand and doing their best to keep the massive crowd of onlookers at bay, but they could only do so much. Some were stopping to talk to the press, but many of their fellow survivors had friends and family members waiting for them, and couldn’t leave the docks fast enough. The seven of them had looked at each other; they were all eager to leave, as well._

_They hadn’t made it very far down the dock when a small woman, shorter even than Marianne and with graying red hair, came out of nowhere and rocketed straight for Bog._

“MY PRECIOUS BOY!!” _she cried as she threw her arms tightly around his waist._

 _Bog yelped in pain and his hand was shaken out of Marianne’s grasp. “Oww!_ Mother _,” he growled in irritation, but his arms still came up around her._

_A slightly taller woman with dark graying hair that Marianne would later learn was Bog’s Aunt Aura was right behind his mother, whose name she would later learn was Griselda, and she was accompanied by a younger woman with two small children in tow. The younger woman and the children went straight for Brutus, who embraced them all._

_Marianne’s mouth had parted in surprise at that, and Stuff sidled up next to her. “His wife and children,” she explained quietly. Marianne’s jaw dropped even further._

_“He never said he was married,” Marianne responded just as quietly._

_“He prefers to keep his working and personal lives separate from one another,” Stuff said. “He tends to not talk about them.”_

_“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your lady friend here?”  Aura suddenly said, drawing Marianne’s attention back to them. She had gone to embrace Bog while Marianne hadn’t been looking. Griselda looked up at her as well, and then back to Bog._

_“Well, it’s about time,” she said._

_Bog rolled his eyes and glared at his mother, although his cheeks had colored. “_ Mother _,” he heaved in exasperation, “do you_ have _—“_

 _But he was cut off by Dawn._ “DADDY!” _she shrieked. Marianne looked in her direction and then followed her line of sight. Their father was striding towards them, followed by Sunny’s mother. Dawn dropped Sunny’s hand and took off running for him. Marianne turned and flashed a quick smile at Bog before she followed Dawn._

_Dagda had hugged them both tightly, and Marianne could feel tension leaving his body as he sighed in relief. Marianne could see Sunny embracing his mother over her father’s shoulder._

_Then Dagda had looked up, and the arm he’d had around Marianne’s shoulders loosened. “Is that Broderic King?” he asked. Marianne had turned to see that Bog had drawn closer to them, his mother with her arms still around his waist._

_“Dagda Springwood?”  Griselda said, looking from Dagda to Marianne and then back to Bog expectantly. Dagda had, in turn, looked from Bog and then to Marianne expectantly._

Marianne’s lips curved up in a soft smile at the memory and her eyes slid open again to gaze down at the warm weight resting on her bare chest. Bog was still sound asleep, right where he had laid his head down the night before, his breath ghosting across her flesh. Her arms were still draped over his equally bare shoulders, and she lifted a hand and began gently raking her fingers through his thick, dark hair. He stirred only slightly at the contact, then settled back down into sleep.

At the moment, Marianne preferred that he stay asleep. Soon after they had all arrived home, she had learned that none of them were getting a good night’s sleep. It seemed the sinking had had an effect on them all. And then they had to go and relive the entire thing in front of a group of strangers, and so soon after it had happened.

Bog had told her back on the _Carpathia_ how he and Thang had survived, but she didn’t hear all the details until the hearing. But after hearing about how he’d spent that time on that boat watching helplessly as men died around him, she wanted to hold him to her and never let go. People had died of the cold on her boat too, and she knew how he must have been feeling.

When they had returned to the hotel that evening, everyone was too emotionally exhausted to go find a restaurant for dinner. Marianne had gone with Bog back to his room, and that was when she realized he had been on the verge of a panic attack. She had stayed to talk him through it, and as soon as he had calmed down, they were in one another’s arms. Then a comforting hug had turned into a comforting kiss, and the comforting kiss had turned into a make-out, and then clothes started being shed as the make-out went even further than that. And they both had been planning on waiting for their wedding night, they really had.

Oh, well. What was done was done. Marianne certainly didn’t regret it. She smiled a little wider as she continued stroking his hair, and her other arm tightened around him fractionally. Then her thoughts returned to everyone else.

No, no one had been spared the trauma. For the first few nights after they came home, Dawn would wake up screaming and crying from nightmares at random times of the night. She never could be calmed down by anyone but Sunny. Eventually Dagda had been forced to give Sunny permission to sleep in her room with her (chaperoned, of course, by one of the maids). It was the only way Dawn would get any sleep at all.

Staying with Dawn also seemed to be helping Sunny. He was also having trouble sleeping, and was prone to completely zoning out at random points. No one could leave him by himself for a while, because he wouldn’t snap out of it until someone physically shook him. Marianne knew he was still being eaten by his guilt over getting on a lifeboat before she and Dawn did, and both of them had to remind him daily that they didn’t blame him for it one bit and that they had forgiven him. Dagda had been upset at first when he had learned that particular point, but when he learned why, he was able to forgive Sunny as well. On that note, Dagda still wasn’t entirely comfortable with Dawn and Sunny’s relationship, but Marianne knew he was trying. It was making Dawn happy, and that was what really mattered to him.

Brutus had been having the same trouble as Sunny. The only difference was that Brutus blamed himself for not ignoring Bog’s instructions to stay on the boat deck. His wife, Vera, had told Bog that Brutus was having trouble getting to sleep at night, if he could go to sleep at all. Bog had to do the same thing for Brutus that Dawn and Marianne had to do for Sunny and remind him that he had nothing to feel guilty for. Besides, if he had gone down there too, it was more likely he’d have been hurt or even killed.

Stuff was suffering from the same level of survivor’s guilt. When everyone had tried to reassure her that she shouldn’t, because the captain had ordered women and children into the boats, she had argued that she too should have ignored Bog telling them to stay on the boat deck and gone with him. Bog had argued back that had she tried to do that, he would have picked her up and bodily thrown her into a lifeboat and then stayed to make sure it rowed away with her in it. That had taken the wind out of Stuff’s argument, because he most certainly would have done just that.

As for Thang, he too couldn’t sleep through a full night. He was constantly being awoken by nightmares and was prone to the same zoning out as Sunny was. For some reason, he also never seemed to be warm enough. And the last time someone mentioned the ocean, all the color drained from his face and Marianne had thought he was going to be physically sick. When Bog had suggested Thang taking some time off and not traveling with him on his next business trip, though, Thang had argued that he wasn’t going to let whatever he was feeling dictate the rest of his life. He’d be fine, he swore it.

Marianne herself wasn’t even free of it. She had tried to hide it, but it turned out she wasn’t fooling anyone. Dawn had been the first one to point out the circles under her eyes, and eventually Marianne had been forced to admit to her nightmares. At first, they had been of not only everything that had happened during the sinking, but of what Roland had tried to do on the _Carpathia_. Then she remembered that one night about three days after they came home.

 _She woke out of yet another nightmare._ _She had maybe gotten about forty-five minutes of sleep in total, which, when she added it to how much she had gotten over the past couple of days, added up to approximately two hours. She had looked at her clock to see it was only shortly after midnight._

_Great. She was in for another sleepless night._

_Her mind drifted unheeded back to the nightmare that had woken her up._

 Bog’s hand being ripped out of hers…

_Marianne shook her head as hard as she could and raked her fingers through her hair. No, Bog was alive. He was okay. She had to remember that._

_But something in her brain wouldn’t accept that until it had seen him for itself. Before she thought twice about it, she was throwing on her clothes and shoes and had stopped long enough to grab a shawl. Then she had left her house and headed straight for Bog’s several streets over._

_Marianne had realized only after she had arrived there that she should have felt terrible about this sudden middle-of-the-night visit. She was likely to wake up half of his house when she knocked on the door. But that worry was banished when she saw him approaching his own door with his keys in one hand, having just gotten out of his car. His tie was loosened and his waistcoat unbuttoned, and his jacket was folded over one arm. She had run the rest of the way down the sidewalk towards him, and he had turned at the sudden sound of running feet._

_“Marianne?! What the hell--?” he asked as she skidded to a stop, out of breath._

_“Bog! I—I just— I needed—“ He approached her then, pulling her into his arms. She had noted the deep circles under his eyes that were definitely not shadows._

_“Shh, let’s get inside first. You can tell me about it in there.” He guided her to the door and unlocked it, and then ushered her into his darkened house._

_When he had the door shut and locked behind himself, he led her to the sitting room. “Can I get you anything?” he offered, turning on a lamp. He took her shawl and tossed it and his jacket over the back of a chair._

_“Something strong,” she said as she sat down on the sofa. He nodded and went to a sideboard where a decanter of whisky and several glasses waited. He poured two and came back over, handing her one as he sat down on the coffee table in front of her._

_“Now, not that I’m complaining, but what brings you out here so late at night?” he asked as she took a sip. It was a moment before she could answer; the liquor was burning its way down her throat. She wouldn’t complain, though. It was good stuff._

_“Bad dream,” she said as soon as she could breathe again. “Very bad dream.”_

_“Again?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Which one?” He took a sip of his drink._

_She snorted out a humorless chuckle. “It seems like they’re all starting to group together at this point.” She took a long drink of her whisky this time._

_“Would it help any if I told you I was having the same ones?”_

_She studied him then. If she was barely getting any sleep, it looked like he had had even less than she had. “Bog, how much sleep have you had?”_

_“In the last few days? Maybe an hour or two. I don’t even know at this point.”_

_Marianne blinked at him in horror. Then she set her glass down and took one of his hands. He finished his drink and set his glass down before he went on, staring at their joined hands._

_“I’ve been pulling late nights at my office, trying to make myself tired enough to sleep.” Here, he gave a mirthless chuckle. “Well, I’ve been making myself tired alright. But it isn’t working.”_

_“Oh, God, Bog,” Marianne murmured. Bog looked up and met her eyes then. Then he shifted from the coffee table to the sofa next to her and pulled her into his arms._

_“We’re not going to focus on me right now, though,” he insisted as he stroked her hair._

_They held one another for a few minutes before Marianne spoke._

_“I’ve been trying to do that too,” she said into Bog’s shirt._

_“Trying to do what?”_

_“Make myself tired enough to sleep. I’ve been practicing my hand-to-hand combat so much that my father and my fencing instructor are both worried I’ll break the equipment.” Bog only hugged her closer at this and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then he laid back on the sofa and pulled her with him._

_Marianne had guessed that they had both been asleep within minutes after that. When they had both_ _awakened the next morning, Bog’s arms were still around her and they had found that someone had covered them with a blanket. Right when they had both realized that daylight was streaming in through the windows, Bog’s mother Griselda had swept into the room._

_“Oh, you’re awake!” she said happily. “Breakfast is almost ready!”_

_“Aw, damn, I’ve gotta get home!” Marianne cried._

“Mum, why didn’t you wake us up!?” _Bog snarled, pushing the blanket off of them and helping Marianne to her feet._

_“Oh, will you calm down?” Griselda fussed. “Marianne, dear, I’ve had a note sent to your house letting your father know that you’re here. Bog, you can bring her home after you’ve both eaten.”_

_“That doesn’t answer my question, mother,” Bog gritted out through clenched teeth as he stood up._

_Griselda planted her fists on her hips. “Because number one, that’s the_ first _good sleep I’ve seen you get since you came home, and if I’m guessing correctly, that’s  also the first good sleep Marianne’s probably had, as well. And number two,” and here, Griselda’s lips stretched out into a wide grin, “that has to be the_ most adorable _thing I’ve seen in a while, and if you think for one second I was going to be the one to end it, you’re very much mistaken. Marianne, you’re welcome to spend the night over here any time you want.” Then she turned on a heel and left the room. Bog squeezed his eyes shut and massaged one of his temples in exasperation while Marianne stared after her._

Marianne had to suppress a giggle at the memory. Watching Bog sleeping now, she realized that he did look really cute when he was asleep.

She supposed it wasn’t altogether bad on her part. The nightmares about Roland eventually stopped, but she was guessing that was because of the fact that he wasn’t going to get away with what he tried to do.

 _A few hours after he had tried to assault her on the_ Carpathia, _Bog had gone with her to see the Master-At-Arms. One of the Masters-At-Arms from the_ Titanic _had also been there.  He had apologized profusely to her. If he had known that Roland had also survived the sinking, he would have immediately informed the captain a complaint had been made about him back on_ Titanic _and made sure to have him watched. Marianne had assured him that it wasn’t his fault, there were too many people to sort through, he couldn’t have known this would happen._

 _She then told him about everything that had happened, including what had happened on the_ Titanic _, and told him she’d certainly be seeking charges against Roland. When she was finished with her story, the Masters-At-Arms told her that they had Roland locked in a separate cabin and under guard for the rest of the voyage home. Though they didn’t think he was likely to try anything else, anyway. His nose was broken and he had major bruising to his entire groin that was affecting his ability to walk properly._

_Bog had offered to take her back to her cabin after that, but Marianne had wanted to go see the doctor first. She showed him why when they arrived there; she had a rather impressive bruise of her own developing on her knee. The doctor’s eyebrows had shot up almost into his hairline and he had nearly started laughing when he heard how it had gotten there._

Marianne had been wrong to think that was the last time she would see Roland outside of a courtroom, though.

 _Bog’s mother and Marianne’s father, as well as everyone else standing_ _around on the dock with them, were waiting on introductions and explanations as to how they knew one another. Marianne and Bog had both opened their mouths to speak when—_

_“Marianne! Sweetheart!” Marianne let out a groan and hung her head instead. Then she turned around. Roland had just been led off the ship, his hands cuffed behind him. He had shrugged away from his combined crewman/police escort, and they were trying to wrestle him back. He was shooting her a pleading, desperate smile. Or as much of one as he could muster with his swollen nose and bruised face. “Darlin’! This is all just a misunderstanding, right!? Please, just stop all this!”_

_Before Marianne could say anything to him, another voice joined them. “Roland?”_

_Marianne turned towards it to see a very young woman, seventeen if she had to guess, coming towards them. As she studied the girl, she suddenly remembered an evening that seemed so long ago now, and Stuff telling her about one of the rumors circulating around Roland. It seemed this particular one was, in fact, true. The girl had a roundness to the lower part of her abdomen that could only mean one thing._

_Roland blinked at her and his jaw dropped. “Julia!?” Suddenly, for the first time ever, he seemed to be at a loss for words._

_Marianne couldn’t help herself. To her own surprise as much as to the surprise of everyone else, she started laughing. Even the police and crewmen that had regained a hold of Roland were arching eyebrows at her. “Roland, you pathetic, sorry excuse…” she dissolved back into laughter for another minute before she finally sobered up._

_When she met his eyes again, a curious calm fell over her. Marianne regarded him like a bird of prey that had just spotted a mouse that didn’t know she was there yet. She was mildly surprised that she didn’t even feel angry, just this serene calm._

_Then she realized where the calm was coming from. She didn’t care anymore. She didn’t care what anyone knew, she didn’t care what became of him._

_She just didn’t care._

_She knew when Roland realized this as well by the fear that flooded his eyes._

_“’Stop all this’?” she repeated, loudly, drawing attention. “You want me to ‘stop all this’?”_

_The desperate smile was back. “Yes, darlin’! All you have to do—“_

_Marianne cut him off. “So, you want me to_ ‘stop all this’ _?” She planted one hand on her hip and held the other one up between them. “After you, first off—“ she held up one finger, “—_ followed _me all the way to Europe, and then—“ she held up a second finger, “—_ somehow _found out which ship I was sailing home on and made sure to be on it, after which—“ she held up a third finger, “—you proceeded to start harassing me about marrying you despite being caught in the act with another woman and told in no uncertain terms to_ stay away from me _, and only stopped_ after _I reported you?”_

 _Roland could only blink at her in shock. “Oh, but that’s not the best part, everyone!” she announced to the crowd, throwing her arms out. “No, the best part came while the ship was sinking!” Then she threw a hand towards Sunny. “You see, we went back to look for our friend here, and while we were down on the lower decks,--“ here, her hand switched to Bog, whose face was lit up with bemusement, “—he_ threatens _my fiancé here, and then picks a fight with him when he won’t cooperate. So when my sister here—“ her hand switched to Dawn, who was watching in slack-jawed awe, “—tries to stop the fight, he puts a_ gun _to her head! And then at his earliest opportunity, he grabs me, and suddenly has the gun on me, and he then_ locks _my sister and my fiancé here up in a cabin—_ on the lower decks of a sinking ship, mind you _—and leaves them for_ dead _! Then he has the_ audacity _to threaten_ my _life if I don’t help him get into a lifeboat!”_

 _The crowd had gone from watching Marianne to staring at Roland at this point. “But then after the sinking, after all three of us barely manage to survive it thanks to you, you find me again. Oh, and it’s not enough that you already know there’s no way I’m going to marry you, no. No, you have to go and make_ _things worse by trying to_ rape _me right there in the middle of the promenade!” The crowd began murmuring at that._

_“If I may be of some assistance,” Aura intervened. Marianne looked over at her to see her approaching them, drawing a folded up document from her handbag and holding it up to one of the police officers._

_“Aura! So nice to see you again,” the officer said._

_“Herbert, always a pleasure,” she cooed to him, handing him the document. Then she turned to Roland. “Roland Knight, is it?”_

_Roland only stared at her in confusion, and that seemed to be all the confirmation Aura needed. “It seems the authorities in Texas have been looking for you,” she said as if she were scolding a child. Roland’s face paled._

_“What for?” Bog called over._

_“Oh, just felony embezzlement from his company,” Aura answered nonchalantly. The officer named Herbert, who had been reading the document while they had spoken, nodded his head in affirmation._

_Julia, who had been watching Roland quietly all this time while tears welled up in her eyes, suddenly spoke. “You—“ she breathed out on a sob. Then the palm of her hand cracked across Roland’s cheek. “You_ ASSHOLE! YOU LIED TO ME!!” _She tried to leap on him then, but Marianne had grabbed her, and Bog and Brutus were also there to try and restrain her as gently as they could. When they pulled her away from him, she whirled around and disappeared into the crowd. Brutus and Stuff immediately went after her._

_“Well, that’s that, then. Let’s get him out of here,” the officer said. Roland was in a stupor as he was led away._

_“Now what’s this about a fiancé?” Dagda had asked. When Marianne looked over at him, a sheepish grin on her face (because she actually hadn’t realized she had called Bog that out loud), his arms were folded across his chest and one of his eyebrows was arched._

Marianne only wished her nightmares about Bog would stop. The last time she had had a restful sleep had been that night she had gone to Bog’s house and fallen asleep with him. Well, until the night before, at least. She supposed her nightmares about him had only continued because of her worry over him.

Bog had seemed to be hit harder than any of them. His near-panic attack the night before hadn’t been the first one.

 _The next day after their arrival home, Griselda_ _had invited everyone over for tea. After the scene with Roland, and Stuff and Brutus had returned from making sure Julia was okay, they had only taken the time for brief introductions before Griselda decided it was best if everyone went home for now. They could talk everything over in the morning. More importantly, Bog and Marianne could explain what was going on between the two of them then._

_So the next day had found them all gathered in the sitting room of Bog’s house, and everyone was recounting what had happened from their own points of view. Dawn and Marianne had reached the point where Bog had helped them into the lifeboat. Bog was talking about what had happened after that when Marianne had noticed the slight tremor to his hands that only got stronger as he went on. By the time he had arrived at the part where Thang had helped him onto the capsized lifeboat, his eyes were glazed over and he seemed to be staring through the cup in his hand._

_Thang had fortunately been able to take over telling their part of the story from there. Bog had had to excuse himself from the room. Marianne immediately followed him to find him stopped in the hallway, one hand braced against a wall and his eyes clenched shut. The thumb and index fingers of his other hand were pinching the bridge of his nose, and his breathing was shallow. His whole body was shaking violently._

_“Bog?” she said gently, touching a tentative hand to his shoulder. He tried to force down a deeper breath, but didn’t move otherwise._

_Marianne furrowed her brow in empathy. “Come on, Bog, this way,” she murmured to him, putting both hands on his shoulders and guiding him further down the hall until they reached a room that she had guessed was his study._

_As soon as the door was shut and she had Bog seated on one of the armchairs in the room and there was no chance of anyone seeing them, he pulled her into his lap, coiled his arms around her, and buried his face in her shoulder. He was still shaking, and was fighting just to get his breathing back under control. Marianne had simply held him and rubbed a comforting hand up and down his back while the other one stroked through his hair._

_They had sat like that for nearly half an hour before Bog recovered from it. He had tried apologizing for it, but Marianne had immediately shushed him. None of this was his fault, she had told him. He had nothing to be sorry for._   

Marianne had guessed that something similar had happened the night before. He had managed to keep it together so well during the hearing, though. She was immensely proud of him for that. But how to tell him without sending him into another attack?

Her inner debate was halted when Bog stirred under her hand and his eyelids fluttered open. He let out a soft moan of pleasure and tightened his arms around her a bit.

“Well, sounds like someone’s had a good night,” Marianne joked.

“Best night of my entire life,” Bog murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. Marianne giggled. No, she decided, she would bring it up later. He was in too good of a mood right now and she didn’t want to do anything to ruin it.

But it seemed Bog had other ideas. “Listen, I’m—sorry about…you know, when I was—“

Marianne lifted his chin up until he met her eyes, stopping his apology. “Hey, we talked about this, remember? You have nothing to be sorry for,” she reminded him. When he averted his gaze, she went on.

“Actually, I was just thinking about how proud I am of you for keeping yourself together yesterday. I know how hard it is for you to talk about it.” He met her eyes again at that and blinked at her incredulously.

“And just remember,” she went on before he could say anything, “you’re not in this alone. We were all there, too. We all have a pretty good idea of what you must have been going through.”

Bog could only stare at her in amazement. He looked for a moment like he might start crying.

“Have I told you how amazing I think you are?” he murmured to her, lifting a hand to tuck a lock of her hair back with a finger.

Marianne cocked an eyebrow. “I believe you did last night,” she said with a sly grin. This had the intended effect of making Bog laugh.

“And yet,” Bog said when he sobered up, “I…have a bit of a confession to make.” Marianne watched him patiently. He chewed on his lip for a minute, trying to figure out how to put what he wanted to say into words.

“After…” he inhaled deeply, “after everything that happened…I…don’t regret getting on that ship.”

Marianne blinked. She hadn’t been expecting that. “Why?” she couldn’t help asking.

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat. “if I hadn’t… I wouldn’t be here with you right now. And as far as I’m concerned, I would happily suffer another brush with death if it meant I could hold you afterwards.”

Marianne could feel tears pricking at her eyes. “ _My God_ I can’t wait to marry you,” she said.  

Bog pressed a kiss to her forehead, and a sly smile curved at his lips. “That’s probably just as well, considering we might have to move the wedding up now after last night. You _do_ have a reputation to consider, after all.”

Marianne snorted. “What reputation? The one where I learn how to do unladylike things like beat up grown men? Or the one where I cut my hair on an impulse? No, Broderic King, I’m more worried about your reputation than mine.”

Bog looked at her in confusion. Marianne fixed him with a sly grin. “I believe _I_ deflowered _you_ last night, so now we _have_ to get married.”

He stared at her for a full three seconds before he erupted into laughter. “Oh, really?” he challenged. “Is that how this works, now?”

“Yes, it is!” Marianne insisted, joining him in laughing.

Then Bog sobered, propped his chin up in a hand, and watched her for a moment as he contemplated something.

“Tell me, Marianne, did you and Dawn go to Scotland while you were on your tour?” he asked. The question seemed to come out of nowhere and had Marianne sobering too.

“We thought about it, but it was still so early in the spring and Dawn didn’t want to go while it was still cold. Why?”

Bog smiled. “I just had an idea about a place I’d like to show you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! Thanks for reading, everyone!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Hairy Situation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9134056) by [levele3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/levele3/pseuds/levele3)




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